Temporary Truce
by iheartgod175
Summary: The truce they formed was meant to be temporary, but somehow, it became permanent. A three-part Punkin' Puss and Mushmouse fic, inspired by the ending for the episode "The Mouse from S.O.M.P.". Rated T for chapters 2 & 3.
1. Chapter 1: I Don't Hate Ya That Much

**A/N** : A _Punkin' Puss and Mushmouse_ ficlet that I wanted to write based off of the ending of "The Mouse from S.O.M.P." and from reading a _Law and Order: SVU_ fic called "I Will Be". That fic ships a pairing I like (Rollins/Carisi), but this fic's not about shipping! Also, I wanted to try out a new writing style after reading it. This eventually turned into a three-shot because of the ideas ^^

Odd truce fluff abounds-you've been warned.

Enjoy!

* * *

 **Title:** Temporary Truce

 **Category:** Hanna-Barbera

 **Series** : _Punkin' Puss and Mushmouse_

 **Rating: T** (due to darker themes in part 2)

 **Genre/Tags** : Humor/Friendship/Eventual Drama/Eventual Angst/Family Drama/Tragedy

 **Summary** : It was supposed to be a temporary truce, after which they'd go right back to feuding. What ends up happening instead forces the two to rethink their rivalry. A one-shot-turned-three-shot _Punkin' Puss and Mushmouse_ fic.

 **Disclaimer:** Warner Bros. made it very clear that I don't own _Punkin' Puss and Mushmouse_.

* * *

 **Temporary Truce**

 **Chapter 1: I Don't Hate Ya...Well, That Much Anyhow**

The smell of potatoes, ham and savory gravy tells him that Punkin' Puss was making mashed potatoes and red-eye gravy and country ham- _again_ -and he sighed. "Can't ya make somethin' other than that dish, Punkin'? We ate that last week!"

Punkin' scoffed. "Oh, like you can talk, Mushmouse. I hasn't forgotten how you made macaroni an' cheese four nights straight. 'sides, I has yet ta go to the store, so we'll eat what we've got." He picks up a saucer and a fork, which was tailored for Mushmouse's size. "You all go 'head an' eat yer ham an' gravy. I's still makin' the taters."

"Sure thing, Punkin' Puss," Mushmouse says, taking the saucer and sitting on the nightstand with his plate. One hand slices the ham while the other hits the up button to change the channels. Honestly, he thought to himself, can't that cat make something other than his red-eye gravy?

A little while later he finds something-a supernatural show that looks like a low-budget ripoff of _The Twilight Zone_. The actors were stale, their costumes and set designs looked like something a monkey hyped on sugar would've put together, and the special effects...goodness, those were terrible. In fact, it was so terrible, it was laughable, if the mouse's uncontrollable laughing was of any indication.

"What's so funny, Mushmouse?" Punkin' Puss came in, a bowl of mashed potatoes in one hand and two bottles of root beer in the other. His eyes widened when he saw what was on the television. "What in the Sam Hill is that?!"

"I-It's some show called 'Supernatural Mystery Theater'," Mushmouse said, trying to control his laughter.

"Looks like some mish-mash o' those monster movies an' _The Twilight Zone_ ," Punkin' Puss said. "Let me take a look at this."

He sits in the rocking chair and they split the mashed potatoes-although their food's quickly forgotten due to both of them laughing and riffing at the show's attempts to tell a story, because seriously, how can you tell a story with effects like _that_?

They talk after it's over, followed by Punkin' Puss changing the channel to a reality show he likes, _Motocross Madness_. Mushmouse at first mocks the cat for it, but he took it back when two racers get into a full-out brawl in the middle of a race. They argue about who's the best motocross racer, who has the best bike, who's the best team-they can't agree on anything except that Powerful Pierre is one of the worst racers _ever,_ not because of his skill, but because his whole attitude was so darn _infuriating_.

They don't change the channel for three hours, because three episodes came on back to back, and Mushmouse was so enthralled he didn't feel like sleeping, and Punkin's choices in snacks-molasses cookies, caramel popcorn and soda-don't help. He sits on Punkin' Puss' knee to get a better look at the race and explain to the cat how Jubilee James _is_ cheating with his new bike, and Punkin' Puss only laughs at his explanations, saying he knows nothing about motocross.

And for a while, it's peaceful. For a while, they're enjoying themselves. For a while, they forget the fact that they're enemies.

And then Punkin' Puss goes to bed, and Mushmouse goes to his mousehole, and he knows in the morning it'll be like the last three hours never happened.

* * *

A couple of weeks later, Punkin' Puss runs out of ammunition, and his gunpowder keg is destroyed by his neighbor Tennessee Tabby-he obviously hasn't forgiven him for trespassing onto his property-and it rains for a few days straight, leaving him cooped up inside the house and feeling rather bored.

He's not really thinking when he knocks on the wall where Mushmouse's hole is and says, "Hey, Mushmouse, you can come out. I's run outta ammunition."

"This had better not be one o' your tricks, Punkin' Puss," Mushmouse replies.

"Consarn it, I'm tellin' ya the truth!" Punkin' snaps. He sighs. "Well, fine. Reckon I'm gonna have ta watch the new episode of _Motocross Madness_ by m'self."

He heads over to the television, a smirk hinting on his face. A second later, he hears, "The new episode's on today? Shoot, why didn't you say so?" A blur of blue races out of the wall and soon Mushmouse is perched on the arm of Punkin's rocking chair. "Reckon we's gonna have to have some food iffin' we're watchin' that."

"So we are, Mushmouse." Punkin' Puss makes his way into the kitchen. He should've used this weak spot a long time ago, he muses. "I'll whip up somethin' quick."

"Somethin' quick" ends up being skillet cornbread and beans, as well as a few leftover ham hocks stewed in red-eye gravy. Mushmouse complains that he's getting fed up with red-eye gravy, although he drowns three pieces of cornbread in it, to which Punkin' Puss can't help but laugh at. Since the show isn't on yet, they have to settle for watching the soaps, including a popular one called _The Old and the Restful_ that Mushmouse had briefly followed but later dropped. Throughout the whole show, Mushmouse explains who the characters are and what crazy storylines had happened before. Even Punkin' agreed that the last one Mushmouse had described was the dumbest thing the writers could've done-why break up a popular couple just so some fan-favorite could come back, and then break _them_ up?

They almost miss the new episode because Mushmouse's trying to figure out what's going on on the show-seriously, whose great idea was it to make the main character think he's a vampire of all things?-but thankfully, Punkin' Puss gets fed up with it and changes the channel. They soon get wrapped up in that, and they're soon back to talking about motorbike parts, the city they should race in, and of course, how _stupid_ Powerful Pierre is.

And just like that, it starts a tradition.

* * *

Well, it's not like it can really be called a "tradition", Mushmouse notes. After all, it's kinda hard to keep a tradition when majority of his time is spent either outsmarting or outrunning Punkin' Puss.

It's more of a thing they do when they either fought to a draw or were so bored they ended up having each other for company, which starts to happen a lot more often lately. Punkin' Puss would cook anything he felt like making for dinner or lunch (dirty rice, Hoppin' John, sausage and beans, and yes, lots of red-eye gravy), while Mushmouse would find shows to watch on TV, and then they'd eat in front of the TV and watch whatever he'd picked. Very rarely did they switch-Mushmouse was not as masterful in the kitchen as Punkin' and Punkin' didn't as many favorite genres as Mushmouse; everything else annoyed him except reality TV shows about cars.

And soaps, he couldn't forget that. Mushmouse still laughs at how he'd caught the cat looking at the end of this week's episode of _The Old and the Restful._

Sometimes, though, when there was nothing good on TV, they'd just talk-not about anything in particular, but certainly not about their feud. They banter and poke fun at each other-he loves shooting Punkin' Puss down when he acts like the world's greatest expert-but it just felt...natural, like they were good friends just talking and having fun.

And that was the weird thing.

In regards to this odd hobby of theirs, Mushmouse has mixed feelings on it. On one hand, he's happy that he wouldn't be shot at or chased around to the point of exhaustion and he could just relax and enjoy things. Plus, he and Punkin' Puss can actually get along and have fun together when they weren't fighting to boot each other out of the hills.

On the other hand, he's slightly annoyed at Punkin' Puss. These TV nights showed him that he wasn't just an ornery cat who was quick to fight with anybody. Thing was, he'd have a hard time asking Punkin' to tell him just what he thought about this crazy sort-of truce they had. The cat was stubborn and quick to attack at a moment's notice, and he'd lose his fur for his trouble. So he keeps his thoughts to himself, although every time Punkin' Puss calls him over for TV night makes him dwell on those thoughts.

Punkin' Puss notices his quietness during the marathon of season 2 of _Motocross Madness_ , leading up to the season finale. Normally, he'd be leaping with excitement and chattering about the hearty dinner Punkin' Puss had made-he'd _finally_ gotten his paws on some beef, leading to beef stew with brown gravy and rice-but he couldn't bring himself to come up with one witty line, even though it'd been two hours after they'd eaten.

"You's alright, Mushmouse?" Punkin' asks during the commercial break.

"Hmm?" Mushmouse turns to Punkin' and gives him a small smile. "I'm fine, Punkin'. I's jus' savin' up my energy for the second half. Don't need ta fall asleep on the final race, right?"

"Yeah, ain't it the truth?"Punkin' replied. "That race had better be as good as they've been toutin' it. I've had lotsa disappointments regardin' those."

"Yup," Mushmouse replies, although he's half-listening to Punkin's rants about disappointments in advertisements.

He has no idea who's _really_ disappointed right now.

* * *

Punkin' Puss notices that something's off with Mushmouse when he announces that _Motocross Madness_ was _not_ being cancelled and would be returning for a third season. He'd figured the mouse would be ecstatic about this, since he'd seemed genuinely disappointed upon hearing rumors that it would be cancelled.

"Oh...well, that's great, Punkin' Puss," Mushmouse says, giving him a small smile. "I'm a-gonna set the calendar to remind myself ta tune in."

"I thought we was gonna watch it together like always," Punkin' Puss brings up, his suspicion becoming apparent.

"Uh, well...I was thinkin' of usin' the TV I've got in my mousehole," Mushmouse answers quickly. "'sides, I was plannin' on watchin' it by myself anyhow. Now iffin' you don't mind, I'm gonna head in an' watch _The Old and the Restful._ "

Punkin' starts to ask something, but Mushmouse has already ducked back into his mousehole. This confounds him even more. "Now wasn't that jus' odd...Mushmouse ain't actin' like himself."

He heads back into the kitchen, picking out the key ingredients for his famous red-eye gravy. However, he can't bring himself to start cooking just yet. He found it odd that Mushmouse would skip out on the show like that. After all, he was letting him watch shows on _his_ TV and fixing _his_ favorite food, and he wasn't even getting mad about it! He could stand to be a little bit grateful-he _was_ treating the mouse way nicer than he normally did or what he deserved, for crying out loud. He'd been having fun with him on these TV nights. They'd been having fun, riffing on bad reality TV, eating food, running commentary-

When he realizes what he'd just thought, he almost utters something he wouldn't be caught dead uttering to his mother.

...Did he just admit to having fun with _Mushmouse_ of all people? The rodent who'd not only barged into his house, but was intent on eating him out of house and home? That was impossible. Cats live to chase mice, not have fun with them. And in the case of Punkin' Puss, they just got on his nerves. He couldn't live in the same space peacefully with Mushmouse; it never worked out.

But for the last month or so, they had been living peacefully off and on, far more than how they used to. Not only that, but they'd actually had fun together on these little TV nights. And he'd also noticed that he's losing his touch when it came to his shooting-he'd always shoot to scare, not to kill, but some of them were deadly close to blowing Mushmouse's head off. Before, this wouldn't have concerned him, but now he can't help the little start he gets when he barely misses Mushmouse.

Was he actually concerned about Mushmouse's well-being? Or was he enjoying the mouse's company a lot more than he would ever care to admit?

For the first time in his life, he has difficulty cooking his red-eye gravy and ham.

* * *

It's the first time in several months where they don't have a TV night.

It's also the first time in several months where they don't feud at all, either. Both of them are in their corners of the house, too deep in thought to do anything.

For Mushmouse, he's resolved to keep his distance from the cat until he can somehow make up his mind. He isn't about to go back to the same pattern of this odd-truce, where they fight for half of the week or year, and hang out the next. Either they're rivals or not-there couldn't be an in-between.

For Punkin' Puss, he's still torn over what to do. A part of him was admonishing himself for being soft on Mushmouse, his enemy of all things,but another part of him was admonishing himself for trying to restart conflict. The last few times they'd tried to truly end their feud, they'd gone right back to where they'd started as they'd been too lonely and too restless without it. And being friends with a mouse was unheard of for cats-his family had already gotten on his case about not killing Mushmouse, but they would skin him alive if he'd become friends with him. He wasn't about to start calling the mouse his friend, though, but he was unsure about keeping him as a lifelong enemy, either.

There is one thing they're both thinking about: things weren't supposed to get _this_ complicated.

* * *

Two days later, Mushmouse has had enough.

"How long is we gonna go on like this, Punkin' Puss?" He looks up at Punkin' Puss, who is idly playing with his rifle. It's the first thing he's seen him do aside from sitting out on the porch and sleeping.

"Go on like what, Mushmouse?" Punkin' Puss asks.

"You know! This whole thing where one half's spent feudin' and the other half's spent bein' friendly with each other!" Mushmouse says. Honestly, how can he forget something like that? "I'm tired of goin' through this over an' over again."

"What, you means to tell me that you wanna restart our feud?" Punkin' Puss questions, one eyebrow raised.

"Of course I don't wanna restart this feud! You's forgettin' the times I tried ta end it!" Mushmouse shouts. "It's jus'..." He sighs in an effort to calm down. "Look...I knows we're technically supposed to be on a truce."

"Yeah. An' this truce has gone on for a long time," Punkin' adds. "I was wonderin' when it was gonna end."

So he had been thinking the same thing. Mushmouse is unsure about asking this, but he knows he has to. "So, this means ya still hate me an' wanna...you know...get rid of me fer good, right, Punkin' Puss?" he says, and his voice takes on that high-pitched note, the one that he always gets when he's either in a playful mood or upset.

Punkin' Puss sighs, sets his rifle down and looks straight at Mushmouse. "Ya know, you's a pain in the behind sometimes, Mushmouse, but I don't hate ya...well, that much anyhow. An' although I shoots at ya often, I don't aim to kill ya."

This surprises Mushmouse, who stares at Punkin' Puss with wide eyes. He wasn't expecting something like that. Come to think of it, he was expecting the cat to turn that rifle towards him and let him have it. A long silence follows this statement, and then Punkin' Puss' look turns uncomfortable. "So, uh..."

"So?" Mushmouse prods.

The next sentence is practically a mumble. "...I reckon I wouldn't mind iffin' we still hung out, Mushmouse."

"Y-You wouldn't?" Mushmouse asks, hopefulness in his tone.

"No, I wouldn't. A-An' don't make me repeat that again, alright?" Punkin' Puss returns to cleaning his rifle with renewed fervor. It's Mushmouse's way of telling how embarrassed he was to say that. "You know I don't like sayin' what's really on my mind most of the time..."

Seeing as that was the end of the conversation, Mushmouse turns and heads into the kitchen for a snack, although he can't help but grin.

His cousins are going to _flip_ when they hear about this.

* * *

Punkin' Puss had thought that this friendship would be awkward. After all, this is Mushmouse, the person he'd shot at day in and day out for years during a deadly, destructive feud. He knows from experience that, for all his talk of being a peace-loving person, Mushmouse is very cunning and full of guile, and when riled up he'd be a formidable foe for anyone. He wouldn't be surprised if Mushmouse had a plan to stab him in the back for all that he's done to him over the years. And in truth, he'd deserve it for being such a mean-spirited person.

But it never happens, and that's the odd thing. They still hang out together, watch whatever's on TV and riff on anything terrible, and still talk about whatever comes to either of their minds. They find that they have similar interests in music and food, as well as similar experiences with family, jobs and money. And their personalities balance each other-Mushmouse was the voice of reason when Punkin' Puss fell to his temper, and Punkin' Puss was the one who helped Mushmouse bounce back whenever he felt down. And when it comes to pranks or tricks, no one is their equal.

Punkin's been waiting for a few months for it all to come crashing down, for Mushmouse to suddenly pull out a gun and shoot him when he least expects it, and nothing happens.

He eventually meets all of Mushmouse's family when he invites them in the summer for a visit. His house has _never_ been this flooded with this many mice, and for a moment he has to remind himself to keep his instincts under wraps. A few of them haven't truly forgiven him for beating up Mushmouse, but most of them are just as friendly to him as Mushmouse is, and he's relieved to hear that.

He has yet to introduce Mushmouse to his own family, but that can wait for another time. Right now, he's listening to the toast that Mushmouse is giving in honor of him, surrounded by all his cousins.

"Well, I never thought I'd say this after all our years of feudin', but Punkin' Puss, I considers you ta be a great friend, an' one I should've made a lot sooner," he said, lifting up his tiny glass of cider in the cat's direction. "To Punkin' Puss, a true an' loyal friend. Cheers!"

"Cheers!" The sound of clinking glasses fills Punkin' Puss' ears as the rest of Mushmouse' family toasts him too. He remembers what he'd said to Mushmouse when their truce had first started: _If everyone got along like this, it'd be a better world_.

Punkin' Puss smiles. "Aw, thanks, Mushmouse," he says, before downing his own glass of cider.

It already feels like the world's gotten better.

* * *

It's a few months later, during a rare daytime showing of _Motocross Madness_ _,_ when Mushmouse finally meets Punkin's family. Or rather, one of his family members.

The door slams open and Punkin' Puss whirls around so fast, Mushmouse swears he hears a few bones snap in his neck. "What in the-"

"Punkin'! Shucks, I was wonderin' where you was! You haven't shown up since the family reunion!"

Punkin' Puss stares at the cat striding in, as does Mushmouse. If Punkin' Puss weren't sitting right here, Mushmouse would've sworn it was a double. "Cousin Horatio?" Punkin' asks.

"The one an' only!" Horatio pauses when he sees Mushmouse sitting on Punkin's knee and the TV blaring. "What's goin' on? Last time I was here, you was sayin' how much you wanted ta clobber that little varmint."

Punkin' Puss starts to say something, but Mushmouse speaks up for him. "Well, that did happen a few years ago, but we's friends now!" he says cheerfully.

Horatio's face curls into a frown, and Mushmouse notices that Punkin' gets tense for a brief second. He looks up at the cat. "We is friends, ain't we, Punkin' Puss?" he asks.

Punkin' clears his throat with a nervous chuckle. Mushmouse can't help but wonder why he's so nervous. "Heheh, um, yeah," Punkin' Puss answers. "We is friends now, Horatio."

"...that so, huh?" Horatio says, and again, Punkin' tenses-his tail is as stiff as a board. "Well, I'd like ta say that I don't mind, but...you know back home there's only one way we deals with mouse-lovin' cats."

"Uh, an' how's that?" Mushmouse asks.

He doesn't hear Horatio's answer, for Punkin' Puss shoves him to the ground. A gunshot rings out, and Punkin' Puss lets out a yowl of pain as a bullet crashes into his shoulder, sending him to the ground right along with Mushmouse.

Mushmouse stares in horror at the cat, who is gripping his wounded shoulder with one paw, his face twisted with pain. _"Punkin' Puss!"_

A loud cock fills his ears. "He wouldn't have been shot iffin' you didn't move!" Horatio snaps at him, his face twisted with disgust. "Ta think my own cousin's a mouse-lover-"

"R-Run, Mushmouse!" Punkin' Puss shouts. His eyes are filled with desperation. "Git outta here!"

Mushmouse stares at him as though he's insane. "But-"

" _Run, an' don't come back!_ " Punkin' shouts again, and his voice takes on that commanding, angry tone that he used from their feuding days. But he knows that he's not doing it to assert his authority. He's doing it to tell him to get the heck out of here fast.

And even though Mushmouse doesn't want to, Horatio makes that decision for him. Pure instinct is to thank for him missing the bullet that nearly blows him apart, and he runs for his mousehole, bullets racing after him.

He races out the back door and into the open field, safe for the moment, but safety being the least of his concerns. He runs down the trail, and in the distance, he hears he sounds of gunfire...and they were coming from outside the cabin. Mushmouse dives for a bush in order to hide and to catch his breath, and it's then that he hears wood snapping off. He gulped. Horatio was coming after him.

"Where are ya, ya dad-burned mouse?" Horatio bellows, stomping through the ground. "Ya can't hide in these bushes forever!"

Mushmouse backs further into the bushes, hoping beyond hope that he can get out of there alive and get back in time to help Punkin' Puss, but he could only go so far before Horatio spots him and shoots him down.

He spots a clearing...and before he can take another step, light shines down on him, and he squeaks in terror. Horatio's hand fills his vision and soon pain fills his body as the cat begins to squeeze him, his claws digging into his body. Punkin' Puss' squeeze holds were nothing compared to Horatio's; the air was trapped in his lungs and he couldn't breathe. Struggling only made it worse.

"As I was startin' to say before my cousin' interrupted..." Horatio starts, smiling as he watches Mushmouse struggle. "Back in the hills, what we did ta mouse-lovin' cats was ta get rid o' what they loved the most...betcha you can figure out what that is, huh?" He laughs and then tightens his hold on Mushmouse, bringing a strangled cry of agony from him. "Consider this as payback, you tricky little varmint."

"An' consider _this_ as payback, you double-crossin' traitor!"

That was Horatio's only warning. He's soon knocked down by a left hook, and his grip on Mushmouse loosens as he falls to the ground. Mushmouse spills out on the ground, gulping down precious air. The cocking of a gun fills his ears, and Horatio gasps.

"You'd better get, or else I'll stomp you good for messin' with Mushmouse!" Punkin' Puss has his rifle aimed at Horatio; he's using one arm due to his shoulder injury, and Mushmouse notices that he's beads of sweat on his brow. Whatever pain he was feeling, the anger hid it all. "An' don't think of callin' any of our other cousins to come by here, or I'll deal with 'em how I's fixin' to deal with you!"

Mushmouse backs away in case Horatio gets the stupid idea to do just that. However, the cat seems to think better of it and gets up, although the glare he sends to Punkin' Puss is full of betrayal and anger. "This ain't over, _cousin_ ," he spits out. He then glares at Mushmouse, and the anger becomes pure vengeance. "You'll get yer due soon, mouse." He marches down the trail, his tail stiff and his paws balled into fists.

Mushmouse turns to Punkin' Puss, about to tell him how relieved he is to see him and how grateful he is-but those words quickly disappear when Punkin's rifle hits the ground, and he clutches his right shoulder, a hiss of pain escaping his lips. He rushes over to the cat, just in time to barely stop him from stumbling into a tree and making his injury worse. He picks up Punkin's rifle, and tries to guide him back to the cabin as best as he can. He has a lot of questions on his mind, but those can wait. His friend needs his help, and darn it all if he's going to let him die.

* * *

Several hours later, when the bullet's safely out and his wounds are stitched up, Punkin' Puss calls Mushmouse inside.

He notices how worried he looks, as though the cat's on his deathbed and he's going to hear his last words. He has to reassure Mushmouse that he's not going to die and that he's lucky that he'd stopped to take care of his arm before running out after Horatio-things would've been much worse. Mushmouse is relieved, but slightly. A tense silence follows before he asks him, "How come ya didn't say anythin', Punkin' Puss?"

"Ya saw why jus' now, didn't ya?" he answers. "My family, 'specially on my paw's side, where all my cousins come from...they got ideas 'bout how catses and mouses should be. An' that's nothin' more than enemies. For a while, I believed that. An' I admit, it's the main reason I was chasin' an' shootin' at ya."

"But Punkin', you's never shot to kill me," Mushmouse points out. "Horatio on the other hand..."

"Yeah, they all like ta extinguish mice. As for me...I can't stand the sight of blood, 'specially my own," Punkin' Puss says. "And I don't like the idea of killin' someone, whether it's for fun, or if I'm defendin' myself. Jus' the thought of doin' that..." He can't help but shudder. "That scares me more than anythin'."

"Oh." Mushmouse climbs up on the nightstand to better face Punkin' Puss. "I guess I can understand why Horatio's mad. My cousins weren't terribly fond of the idea of you bein' my friend, either."

Punkin' Puss nods. "There's standards in these yar hills."

"So...does this mean we's gonna have ta stop bein' friends?" Mushmouse asks. "I don't think yer family's gonna put up with you bein' friends with a mouse..."

His tone is sad, and Punkin' Puss can't help but feel sad, too. They'd finally, finally ended their feud, had proven to be pretty good friends...and now someone's determined to break it. A part of him thinks, _This was a stupid idea, trying to be friends with a mouse! Look what you've done! You've made an enemy outta your own family! You need to show that mouse his place!_

But another part of him also thinks, _Now_ that's _a stupid idea. Why w_ _ould you want to go back to being enemies again, after how well you've gotten along? If your family doesn't like it, they'll have to put up with it. Standards do exist in these hills, but you don't have to follow them._

What he does surprises even him. He gives the mouse a pat on the head with his good hand, which prompts a look of surprise. "Well, they's gonna have to put up with it. 'Cause iffin' there's anythin' I hate, it's folks who turn their back on their friends," Punkin' says. "So no, we ain't gonna stop bein' friends, Mushmouse."

Mushmouse's face brightened with a grin, before he gave the cat a hug. Granted, it's not really a hug-due to being smaller than him, it's more like mashing his cheeks halfway inside his mouth and pulling on his whiskers to the point of tearing them. This would've bothered him, but in truth, he's happy, as he knew now that he did have a true friend in the small mouse. There was that old saying-you can't choose your family, but you can choose your friends.

And he knew, from that moment on, that he'd made a good choice in friends.

* * *

Several weeks later, the two are back to normal. Well, as normal as could be-Punkin's shoulder keeps him out of the kitchen, so Mushmouse has been ordering takeout from the restaurant farther down the hills, because he's not going to risk burning the house down. He does hope that his shoulder gets better soon, though; after having homemade red-eye gravy and country ham, restaurant-style doesn't taste the same.

Of course, he doesn't dare mention that to Punkin' Puss.

He's been wondering what happened to Horatio and the rest of Punkin's family members-they must've heard of what happened by now. He had expected an army of cats to come flooding the house, rifles aimed at him and Punkin' Puss-or at the very least, threats of doing so coming in the mail. But there hasn't been news for almost month, so they might have let it blow over...or they might be planning something.

He really, really hopes that it's the former. The last thing he wants is to get killed, or even worse, for Punkin' Puss to get killed. Now that he thinks about it, the cat almost died because of him. If he hadn't been there, Punkin' Puss wouldn't be hurt. He wouldn't be caught up in a family war over him.

These thoughts of guilt came to him at the worst times...like right now, when they're watching the _Motocross Madness_ marathon that's supposed to lead up to the season four premiere. He's facing the TV, but not really paying attention to it, as he remembers what happened the last time they'd been watching a marathon of this show.

"Hey, Mushmouse?" Punkin' says during the commercial break.

Mushmouse snaps out of his troublesome thoughts to answer. "Yeah, Punk?"

"Iffin' any more of my family gives ya trouble, I'll handle 'em personally," the cat says. "An' if they come 'round here, I'll give 'em all what for."

Mushmouse turns around to face the cat, who looks at him with a calm, half-lidded expression. How he could be so calm after announcing that he'd go after his own family was beyond him. But what stunned him even more was that he'd somehow known what he'd been thinking. "Punkin', I-I hasn't been worried 'bout that..."

"Mushmouse, it ain't like ya to not talk during one of these marathons. An' I can figure out what you all are thinkin' 'cause I was thinkin' the same thing," Punkin' replies. "I meant what I said ta Cousin Horatio, an' I'll say the same to any of my kinfolk. So you's got nothin' to worry 'bout."

"Well, I appreciate it, Punkin', but...reckon yer sayin' that to forget that it's my fault you is hurt in the first place," Mushmouse says.

"I got off lucky, an' so did you. Ya wouldn't have a shoulder if'n I hadn't shoved ya, much less a head," Punkin' answers. "So don't go 'round thinkin' that what happened back then was yer fault. I did that to save ya. An' you know me. I woulda said somethin' if I did think it was your fault."

"That's true." Mushmouse chuckles. "Reckon this whole situation has gotten me wound up."

"I can tell," Punkin' Puss replies. "But at least you's can unwind with a little bit of television, right?"

"Yep!"Mushmouse pauses when he hears the theme for _Motocross Madness_. "I hopes Pierre gets booted out of this season!"

Punkin' Puss laughs. "Yeah, ain't it the truth? Another fella I hope they get rid of is Sven."

"Sven? He's an alright feller! How can ya say that?!"

"I'm jus' sayin', he's gettin' up thar, Mushmouse. He can't race forever!"

"That's what makes him a great racer! He don't let age define 'im!" Mushmouse huffs. "Honestly, you've got bad taste when it comes ta competitive sports, Punkin' Puss!"

"Hey...!"

They miss majority of the season opening because they're arguing who's the best competitor, which soon shifts over to who's the best racing team. It simmers down when Pierre _does_ get booted off, to which Punkin' insists they celebrate with a bottle of apple cider and, surprisingly, some pizza from farther in town. He's got some extra spending money saved away, and he decides that today's as good a day as any to spend it on something luxurious.

Mushmouse can't help but laugh; only Punkin' Puss would call pizza a luxury. But he readily agrees to this idea and orders extra cheese on their six-cheese meat lover's pizza when he gets on the phone. The thoughts that he'd been thinking of earlier have disappeared, partly due to his excitement, and partly because of Punkin's words.

Tonight, neither of them would have anything to worry about.

 **End of Part 1**

* * *

 _ **This was the only idea that I was working on during this whole week-and that was in between working on my project and the assignment I had this week. See, I can multitask!**_

 _ **This fic's not connected to "Big City Tabby", by the way-it more or less takes place during the cartoon series.**_

 _ **The pic that I have as this fic's cover was taken from the episode "The Mouse From S.O.M.P." Unlike Tom and Jerry, moments where Punkin' Puss and Mushmouse actually interact peacefully for a little while barely happen, so it was kinda cool and rather cute to see that. Seeing as Punkin' Puss and Mushmouse have the second most violent rivalry after Tom and Jerry, I was working on a way to see how they'd actually become friends. I was trying to keep it cute and fluffy, but you know how my mind works. I did reference a couple of characters from previous PP &MM episodes-Horatio's from "Callin' All Kin", Tennessee Tabby's from the episode "A Tale of Two Kitties" and Mushmouse's many cousins are from various episodes. There's also a character from a Huckleberry Hound episode called Powerful Pierre who's mentioned in here.**_

 _ **I did that on purpose with the ending: Horatio may have been chased off, but it really isn't over for Punkin's side of things.**_ ** _I don't think I'll do a sequel fic to this...but if you like it enough to do one, then be my guest._**

 ** _Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think!_**


	2. Chapter 2: You Brought This On Yourself

**A/N:** I wasn't planning on doing another chapter of _Temporary Truce_ , but Vulaan Kulaas' review inspired me, of course :)

Now before you read the chapter...let me just say that this chapter wasn't supposed to go this dark. It really wasn't. I just happened to read some of BHS' _Shattered Skies_ and Vulaan Kulaas' _Powerful Friendship, Iron Bond_ before going back to write this, and this is literally what I came up with. The warnings below should give you a good idea of what to expect in this part, though.

And yes, I will go back and work on chapter 2 of _Big City Tabby_. I'm just stuck on how I want that chapter to go, although I think I have a pretty good idea.

Anyway, enjoy part 2!

 **WARNING: This chapter contains the following content that can be triggers to some: blood, torture and violence.**

 **Disclaimer: *** points at previous note because I'm too lazy to write up another disclaimer ***** Oh, and I should also mention that I don't own Ricochet Rabbit or Droop-a-Long either. Come to think of it, I don't think I own anything at all. ^^

* * *

 **Temporary Truce**

 **Chapter 2: You Brought This On Yourself**

It was late afternoon when Bodiddly came around to check on his cousin.

He peers in through the window, wanting to see for himself if what Horatio said was really true. His cousin has a nasty habit of making up stories, a habit that he'd always gotten beat up for as a kitten. A mouse-lover was a pretty serious thing in their family, and there had to be some pretty good proof before going in and doing their job. Horatio had come back home with a black eye because of this fight with Punkin', and Bodiddly hoped that Horatio wasn't lying. If he was, he was going to have a lot to answer for.

He looks inside, noticing that Punkin' Puss is asleep in the rocking chair, his arms folded across his lap, his hat falling over his eyes. Bodiddly almost misses the blue hat that belongs to Mushmouse, who is sleeping on Punkin's leg in the same position, and with the cat's tail curled around him.

Bodiddly's eyes widen. "Well, hush my mouth," he mutters.

He's going to have a lot to talk about with his cousins.

* * *

 _Two days later..._

Mushmouse sighs when he catches a whiff of country ham. "Punkin' Puss, haven't ya gotten tired of makin' that ham an' red-eye gravy already?"

"I don' wanna hear that from the feller who eats half a bowl of it when I do make it," Punkin' Puss retorts, stirring the pot.

Darn it, he'd been caught. Mushmouse groans, not about to admit it. "Even so, ya could stand to have a wider palate, Punkin'."

"...Come's to think of it, you ain't never had my sweet-an'-sour ribs with grilled taters 'n beans...or my pulled-pork sandwich," Punkin' says. "The pork's nice an' soft, glazed in my special family sauce an' served with crunchy pickles. Oh, an' there's my sweet an' smoky apple chicken, too, which goes great with green beans."

Mushmouse turns towards him, eyes wide and drool running down the side of his mouth. The names of the dishes sounded good enough, but the descriptions were making him ravenous. "You can make all that?"

"I would make 'em, but some folks say I don't have a 'wider palate'," Punkin' Puss says before chuckling.

"You has a fiendish mind, Punkin' Puss!" Mushmouse groans as Punkin' Puss breaks into full out laughter. "Ya should better than to tease a hungry mouse!"

"Guess I forgot," Punkin' replies, composing himself long enough to focus on adding the last ingredients to his gravy.

Mushmouse groans as he turns to watch the TV. He'll get him back, one way or another.

Someone knocks on the door, and Mushmouse's ears perk up. "Who'd be knockin' on the door at this hour?" he mutters.

"It'd better not be one o' those pesky salesmen. They've been comin' round a lot," Punkin' Puss replies, pouring the gravy in a small pot. "I'll get it in a second."

"You's gotta check the food, Punkin'. I'll answer it," Mushmouse replies, jumping down form the rocking chair to do so. "It could be one o' our neighbors."

He barely gets to the door before it gets blasted down, the handle flying into the wall. Mushmouse stares in utter shock as three cats, two of whom were taller than Punkin' Puss, march inside, armed with rifles and shotguns.

The first cat looks down at him and scoffs. "So, this scrawny mouse is responsible for turnin' Punkin' Puss soft, eh?" he said. "Guess you wasn't lyin', Bo."

"Neither was Horatio when he first told me," the smaller cat, Bodiddly, says, walking inside the house. "I couldn't believe it m'self."

"What in tarnation's goin' on?!" Punkin' Puss rushes over, rifle in hand. He freezes when he sees his cousins. "C-Cousin Bodiddly? Cousin Zeke? Cousin Mose?!"

"Howdy, cousin!" Mose, the tall one in the light blue and red clothes, points his gun at his cousin. "Or should I say, _former_ cousin."

"Former cousin?" Mushmouse says.

"What's goin' on? Why're you all here?" Punkin' Puss demands.

"We's here to deal with this mouse-lovin' matter once an' for all!" Zeke yelled.

"An' how do you plan to deal with that?" Mushmouse asks.

"The best way we know how!" Bodiddly says. "We're a-gonna take Punkin' Puss to his pa's an' let him talk some sense into 'im!"

"W-W-What?" Punkin's eyes are as wide as saucers, and he's shaking so much that he almost drops his gun. "Y-You all can't be serious!"

"What's the matter? You scared ta face yer old man?" Bodiddly taunts.

"He got every reason ta be scared! His paw'll skin 'im alive!" Zeke says before laughing.

"We'll take ya to see 'im right after we finish off this worthless mouse!" Mose adds, turning his rifle towards the mouse.

"I-I wouldn't do that iffin' I was you," Mushmouse says.

"Well, you isn't I!" Mose snaps.

A loud gun cock fills his ears as soon as he steps forward. "Iffin' you used that smart head of yers, you'd see he was warnin' you!" Punkin' Puss snarls, his rifle aimed at Mose.

Mose scoffs. "You's jus' bluffin', Punkin'."

"You know I don't bluff, Mose. An' you know that I's a natural marksman," Punkin' says. "You'll have a bullet in you before ya can put a bullet in Mushmouse."

Mose lets out a dark chuckle as he looks at Punkin' Puss. "You don't wanna do things like this, Punk. You'll find it does more harm than good," he said. "The rest of our family will be fightin' over your hide if'n you kill one of us."

"Yeah, especially over some dad-burned mouse," Zeke answered.

"So, you either come with us, or have the whole lot of us out fer yer blood!" Bodiddly said.

Mushmouse gulps. He can already tell that these three were not joking. He looks over at Punkin' Puss, who starts to lower his rifle. "Punkin'-"

"I'll go with 'em, Mushmouse," Punkin' Puss says. He notices the stewing anger in the cat's eyes; it was a decision he didn't want to make, but one he knew he had to make. "I'd really rather not cause more problems between me an' my kinfolk, especially out here."

Mose smirks. "Well, well. Guess there is more to ya than bein' a hothead," he says. "Now, iffin' I was you, I'd set that rifle aside."

Punkin' does so-or rather, tosses it against the wall with such force it's almost dented. Mushmouse stares after Punkin' Puss in horror. He knows that the cat is doing this because he doesn't want unnecessary bloodshed or to make this situation even worse...but he gets a sickening feeling in his gut, that there's something far sinister that's going to happen to Punkin' Puss if he leaves with them. His instincts scream at him _do something instead of standing there_ , but he knows that if either of them do anything, Punkin's cousins would kill them without a second thought.

The struggle must be apparent on his face, for Punkin' Puss' expression softens slightly. "Don't you worry yer little head, Mushmouse. I'll be fine," he said.

Mushmouse highly doubts that, but he keeps his thoughts to himself. Punkin' Puss gets marched out like he's being sent to the executioner's, but Mose remains behind. The sickening feeling in Mushmouse's gut only intensifies when the cat shuts the door.

"U-Uh, ain't ya goin' with the rest of yer kin?" Mushmouse asks.

The cat gives him a shark smile. "I would, but I figured one of us have ta stay here an' keep Punkin's _buddy_ company," he says. He holds his rifle leisurely in one hand, tapping it against his shoulder. "Looks like you an' me is gonna be housemates for a spell. An' as usual for housemates', there's gotta be some ground rules."

Already, Mushmouse regrets not acting on his instincts.

* * *

The moon is barely visible through the dark leaves of the trees, and as such, it provides little light for Punkin' Puss as he's forced to walk ahead of Zeke and Bodiddly. Those two might've been trained to maneuver through the dark of night, but he wasn't. He stumbles on another gnarled root for the fourth time already and his cousin Zeke swears this time.

"You're usually faster on yer feet, Punkin'!" Zeke shoves him forwards not long after getting up, almost sending him down the hill again. "Reckon that mangy Mushmouse is ta blame for that, too."

"Iffin' ya had half a mind to bring a lantern, I would be able to see!" Punkin' growls.

"An' iffin' ya were trained to move like we were, ya wouldn't need it!" Bodiddly snaps. "Get a-movin'. We'll be at yer paw's house soon enough."

 _Aw, right. I've gotta face 'im,_ Punkin' Puss thinks to himself, continuing on his march through the dark. His eyes narrow. _I sure ain't lookin' forward to that._

They continue on their journey, and all the while, Punkin' Puss can't help but worry about both himself and Mushmouse. He knows his father's going to do worse than skin him alive for this, but he had noticed that Mose wasn't with them, which could only mean that he was at the cabin with Mushmouse. Everyone knew Mose was vicious with mice, and he knew without a doubt that he was going to make Mushmouse's life a living hell-probably moreso than his father would for him.

They finally make it to Punkin's childhood home, and he gulps when he sees his uncle and several of his other cousins standing on the porch. His father, an aged tabby with streaks of white showing in his dark orange fur, stands up, supporting himself with his rifle. The dark look in his eyes confirmed his worst fears.

Zeke and Bodiddly shove him onto the porch and he falls over himself like a fool. He hears his uncle and cousins laugh and feels his father's glare burning into the back of his neck.

"Get up, Punk," his father booms, his voice clear and authoritative.

Punkin' Puss gets to his feet, and meets his father's golden brown eyes. He gulps again. "H-Howdy, Paw..."

"I can't believe you," he snarls, and Punkin' Puss is taken aback by this. He's never heard his father speak with such venom. "My own flesh an' blood, becomin' a mouse-lover of all things. I thought Horatio was lyin' 'til I sent yer cousin to check on ya."

Punkin' Puss whirls around to face his cousin. "You came pokin' round my house?!"

"Yeah, 'cause yer paw ordered me to. An' even if he didn't, I was a-fixin' to get you fer punchin' Horatio," Bodiddly says.

Punkin' Puss feels a surge of anger towards himself-if he had noticed his cousin's presence, he would've told Mushmouse to escape, that way the mouse wouldn't be in danger. But it was too late to worry about the what-ifs now. He looks at his father, whose still giving him that stormy glare. "So now what? You's plannin' on finishin' me off, Paw?"

His father looks at Zeke instead. "What happened to that mangy Mushmouse?"

"Oh, Mose's fixin' him good," Zeke said, snickering. "He ain't gettin' outta thar alive."

"Mose'll leave him for Punk once he returns," Paw replies. "Reckon we's gonna have ta reteach Punk here all 'bout how catses and mouses are supposed to be."

"This is gonna be fun," one of his brothers reply.

The only sound Punkin' Puss is able to get out is a squeak before his father grabs him by the scruff of his neck and drags him inside the house. Stars fill his vision as he slammed onto the floor, and he hears the mean snickers of his three brothers as they circle him.

Punkin' isn't unfamiliar with this-this has actually happened in a few circles of his family more than once-but he can't help but look up at his father to plead with him one last time. "Paw," he groans, "don't do this."

His father looks at him with anger and-dare he say-shame. "You brought this on yourself, Punkin'." He inclines his head to one of his brothers.

The next thing Punkin' Puss knows, he feels a swift, sharp kick to his left ribs, and soon all of his brothers, followed by his two cousins, subject him to a world of pain.

* * *

"Hey, Mushmouse?" Mose asks calmly.

The reply is a soft croak. Mushmouse opens his eyes, his head pounding and his body alive with pain. "Y-Yeah...?"

"I think you's forgettin' somethin'," Mose says, a playful lilt in his voice.

Mushmouse swallows down the bile in his throat. "I-I mean...yes, Master?"

"That's better," Mose says, and he chuckles. "I was wonderin' if you'd be doin' anythin' any time soon."

Mushmouse wants to comment how stupid of a question that is, but he's in too much pain to do so. Mose gets up from the ground and walks over to him. He picks him up, none too gently, either; he can feel the cat's claws digging into the fresh cuts, and he can't help but wince. Mose's mouth curls into that smile again-the smile that sends every part of him shuddering.

"Well, I would say that you're gettin' off easy compared to Punkin' Puss," he says, "but that'd be lyin'."

 _No kiddin',_ Mushmouse thinks.

"I think by the time he comes back from his stay with Pa an' the rest of our kinfolk, he'll have learned his lesson. An' so will you." Mose chuckles again. "But I don' think you'll live to tell anybody about yer lesson."

Ice races down Mushmouse's back, freezing him in place. "Y-You's thinkin' of finishin' me off?"

"I could. I haven't had a fresh mouse in ages," Mose said. "Not a lot of 'em where I live."

"W-Well...uh, I-I don't think that'd be such a good idea," Mushmouse says.

"An' why not?" Mose's voice dips to a growl.

"Knowin' me, you'd probably get indigestion, or maybe food poisonin'," Mushmouse continues. "An' even iffin' I wasn't, I reckon a small lil' ol' mousey like me wouldn't fill ya."

Mose glares at him for a moment more, and that icy feeling doesn't leave Mushmouse-in fact, it intensifies as he locks eyes with the cat. And then, Mose gives him another one of his shark smiles. "We'll see 'bout that," he says. "Ya see, I've heard that mouses are jus' like rabbits; they multiply. So I reckon you's got a lotta kinfolk."

Mushmouse's eyes widen when he sees where this is going. He attempts to sit up, but fire still races through his bones. Mose laughs. "Well, now ya try to do somethin'," he says.

"D-Darn right I am!" Mushmouse growls, glaring up at Mose. "Iffin' you lay one paw on my family, I swear, you is gonna pay!"

"How? You's gonna be dead soon, anyway!" Mose says. "First light, right after I round up your kinfolk!" He gets up and walks over to Mushmouse, rifle in hand. "An' ta make sure ya don't try to do anythin' foolish..."

Mushmouse at first thinks Mose is going to shoot him, but he's proven wrong a second later when Mose points the stock at him. And then he recognizes what he's about to do-he must've shown Punkin' Puss how to do this, since the latter did this all the time during their feud.

"Fore!" Mose says, and proceeds to swing his rifle like a professional golfer.

The side of the stock slams into his face with crushing force, sending him rocketing into his mousehole. He makes contact with the wall with a brutal crack, and he hears bones snap and shift in ways they're not supposed to. It sends white hot pain racing through his body, pain that makes him scream in agony. He slumps to the ground face first, the sound of Mose's laughter filling his ears.

Whatever hopes he had of this being some elaborate scare tactic were quickly fading away. This cat wasn't trying to scare him, although he'd already done a good job at that...he was trying to kill him.

He wanted to get back up then, to pull himself together and warn his family before it was too late...but the fire quickly numbs, and Mushmouse's eyelids grow heavy. He's seeing blurry doubles of everything, and Mose's laughter is faint in his ears.

He doesn't hear what the cat says next. His eyes close once more, and then everything everything quickly goes black as he sinks into unconsciousness.

* * *

 _The next morning...  
_

The sound of the door slamming open awakes Punkin' from his uneasy sleep. "Get up, Punkin'," Zeke snarls.

Punkin' would have, too, if his cousin hadn't walked over and kicked him in the back, his claws jabbing into it. Punkin' winces at this, careful not to scream. That would only bring about worse torture. He grits his teeth and holds back a curse as he rolls over and pushes himself into a position where he can stand easily. No sooner has he done this than Zeke yanks him upwards by one arm, setting his bones on fire. He half-stumbles out the door and is greeted by his father and the rest of his cousins, who all glare at him with that same animosity.

"Welcome back to the land of the livin', Punkin'!" Bodiddly says.

His father holds up a hand to quiet him. "Have ya learned yer lesson yet?" he asks slowly.

Punkin' Puss recognizes that tone. If he doesn't give him the right answer, his father's going to deal with him personally. And Punkin' knows firsthand how that goes. Everyone's eyes bore into him, waiting for him to say something.

Punkin' Puss knows what he should do. He should tell them that he isn't about to trade his friendship with Mushmouse just for their sakes. He should stand up and do the right thing.

But at the same time, he doesn't want to lose his life, especially at the hands of his family, most of whom looked all too eager to finish him off. Horatio even had the nerve to tell him the story of one of his uncles, how he'd become friends with a mouse and how the rest of them had found out. Punkin' Puss has to resist the urge to shudder as his cousin's words, full of cruel mirth, echoed in his mind.

 _"Long story short, the next time he went down to the lake, he didn't make it back to shore. The lot of us made sure of that."_

Although he'd snarled at him that the story didn't terrify him, if one had peeled away his fur, they would've seen he'd gone white with fear. Is that how he'd be taken care of? Or would the rest of them come up with something worse, since he'd defied them and had fought against his cousins? Whatever they had in mind, Punkin' knows their methods would be slow, cruel and painful-a cruel game in which they'd draw out his suffering until the end. It reminded him of his "games" with Mushmouse back in their feuding days, he thinks with a twinge.

 _Mushmouse...I'm sorry._

"...y-yeah," he mumbles.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Bodiddly said. "You's usually louder than that, Punk."

"Yeah," Punkin' Puss says. He regrets this a moment later; his scraped throat burns with the strain. "I-I've learned my lesson."

"Good. An' I want ya to prove it in front of the whole family," his father says.

An icy feeling of dread settles in the pit of Punkin's stomach. "W-What's that, Paw?"

His father smiles. "We're headin' back to your cabin. You're-a gonna take this yar rifle, an' blast that mangy mice to pieces," he said. "It's jus' like when you was a kitten, Punkin', only this time, you's gonna make sure it's dead."

There is no hiding his fear this time. He takes it back-any form of cruel torture his father had in mind was better than this. Having every bone in his body broken was better than this. For a split second, even death was better than this. At least then, he wouldn't have to live with the fact that he'd murdered his friend because of his cruel, heartless family.

But he knows it's too late to turn back. Too late to protest. Too late to fight. He knows his family too well. All his father has to do is give the order, and they'll be on him with the intention to kill him. And if he tried to fight his father, he'd be dead before he could aim a barrel at him.

Punkin' Puss swallows back a pool of acid in his throat. "A-Alright, Paw...I'll do it," he answers. "I-I'll fix that scrawny Mushmouse."

The cruel smirk that graces his father's face seals the deal.

* * *

"Golly, it sure is quiet 'round here."

"'Course it is, Rufus. Cousin Mushmouse done made that mean ol' cat his friend, remember?"

"Quite. I remember him well. Scruffy, ill-tempered one, wasn't he?"

The three voices belonged to three of Mushmouse's many cousins-the first being Rufus, who looked just him but with a green hat and a red vest; Luke, who had bluish fur, wore a blue hat and a red tattered vest; and Bat Mouseterson, the city-slicker with a refined accent and carried a cane, as well as a dignified air about him. The three were on their way to their cousin's cabin, since they'd been invited to a potluck. Although all three had been enemies of Punkin' Puss at some time during their cousin's feud, they'd more or less learned to tolerate him at Mushmouse's insistence.

And if one good thing could be said about Punkin' Puss, he was an amazing chef. So putting aside their differences towards him would work for one day, if only so they could have a fill of his delicious food.

No sooner had they gone through the bushes than the double barrel of a shotgun met their faces. All three jumped back as they came face to face with an orange furred cat with a black, tattered hat, an equally-tattered black vest, a yellow shirt and dark blue pants.

Rufus gasps. "Punkin' Puss?! What's the matter with you! We's Mushmouse's cousins!" he shouts.

"You are, huh?" he says, not removing his rifle.

"Yes. You should know that quite well. Now lay down your weapon and let us pass," Bat says, lifting the barrel up smoothly with his bat and walking under it.

He does, and then promptly puts the barrel back in his face. "Not happenin', city mouse. In case y'all hasn't figured it out, I ain't Punkin' Puss," the cat snarls. "I's his cousin, Mose."

"Shucks, if you hadn't told us yerself, I'd swear you was him!" Rufus answers.

"Well, I ain't. But I reckon yer cousin Mushmouse wishes I was," Mose replies, a smirk on his face.

"What's this 'bout Cousin Mushmouse?" Luke shouts. "Iffin' you did somethin' to him-"

"Now, now, there's no need ta get fight happy," Mose replies. "But iffin' you get any funny ideas, I'll let all of ya have it, with both barrels." He smirks as he sees Rufus and Luke's faces dissolve into pure terror. "Now, y'all simmer down an' come along peaceful-like back ta Punkin's cabin. There's a surprise waitin' for ya."

"What surprise?" Bat asks, looking up at the cat coolly.

"Iffin' I told ya, there'd be no point in it," Mose replies. "Now get ta marchin', city-slicker."

"Hmph." Bat does, folding his cane under his arm and holding his head up snootily. "Very well. But I still believe the weapon's unnecessary."

Rufus and Luke follow next, very aware of the fact that Mose's gun was on their tails. "I-I ain't likin' this, Luke. What if this is a trap 'a some sort?"

"Cousin Mushmouse'll known all about it, Rufus," Luke said. "He knows all the tricks that mean ol' cat's got. He'll help us."

Mose laughs, but doesn't comment on the remark. He simply pushes Luke forwards and he squeaks as he stumbles into Rufus. "Less talkin', more walkin'," he says, a little too cheerfully.

Luke gulps, Rufus shudders, and Bat rolls his eyes, but they keep silent on their trek to the cabin.

* * *

"Oohh...my _achin'_ head..."

Of course, that's not the only thing that's aching right now, Mushmouse thinks as he rises from unconsciousness. The claw marks from yesterday still burn, his legs are sore, and he's certain that the lumps he's feeling that poke through his back and such are the bones that Mose broke yesterday. Moving was practically impossible without any assistance. He was immobile, helpless and in unimaginable pain. At least he can breathe, although even that feels like fire coursing through his lungs.

Right now, all he can think of is his family. He hasn't heard anything from Mose, which must mean that the cat was out there now, searching for them. He'd invited some of them over for that potluck he and Punkin' Puss were supposed to throw, and a few of their other friends from across the country were supposed to be here as well. Mose could fool them into thinking he was Punkin' Puss, and then hold them hostage. Or he could kill them all just as he'd said he would; after last night, there was no doubt that he'd do it, too.

The door opened and the first person he sees is his city-bred cousin, Bat Mouseterson, who looks irritated. Behind him are his two other cousins, Rufus and Luke, who look scared out of their wits. And right behind them is Mose, who is casually pushing Luke with the barrel of his shotgun.

"Now that we're here, please inform Mushmouse that we've arrived," Bat says coolly, turning to face Mose with disdain.

Mose removes the shotgun from Luke's back and smiles down at the city mouse with one of his shark smiles. This sight doesn't deter Bat, but Rufus and Luke literally go white with fear. "Certainly," he says, and strides over to his mousehole with the feigned air of a city dweller.

Mushmouse tries to push himself to a sitting position, but no sooner has he done this than Mose's paws close around him tightly and bring him out. Mose turns around and then tosses him to his cousins, sending pain jolting through his body and wrecking his bones even more.

Even from behind him, he can feel that shark smile. "There he is, fellers," Mose says.

All three of them gasp. Rufus shudders, Luke stares with wide eyes and a slack jaw, and Bat's cool disposition slips as horror crosses his face. Mushmouse raises his head, and tries to lighten up their mood. "H-Hey fellas..."

Bat draws his cane, but just as fast Mose's gun is in his face. "Don't try it, city-slicker," Mose snaps, "less ya wanna go back to yer fancy city in pieces."

"M-Mushmouse, what's goin' on? Where's Punkin' Puss?" Luke asks, cowering in fear.

"He's with his paw, who's my uncle," Mose says. "An' iffin' ya must know, this whole mess started because yer cousin decided ta mess with my cousin's head, fillin' him with ideas that catses and mouses could be friends. I had to teach 'im a lesson."

"You _monster_ ," Bat snarls, and Mushmouse flinches, although the action sends fire through his bones. He's never heard Bat sound like that, ever. "How could you do something so cruel!?"

"Well, you think that's bad, you don't wanna see how Punkin' Puss is gonna be," Mose laughs.

The phone rings then, startlingly loud. Mose walks over to the phone, keeping his rifle trained on the mice. He picks up the receiver with one hand. "Hello?" he says.

 _"Mose? I thought you'd be sleepin' still."_

"Well, I would've been, but I was keepin' a promise to Mushmouse," Mose says, and turns his smirk towards the mice, who all look at him with disgust and dread. "I was a-fixin' to finish 'im an' his cousins off, but-"

 _"Save it, Mose. My son's takin' care of it."_

Mose smirks. "So he's learned his lesson, has 'e?"

 _"Yup. An' we're a-gonna make sure he won't fake it this time. I want ya to tie up those other two. But I want you to tie up Mushmouse in a real special-like way. Make it nice."_

He doesn't need to tell him twice; already, Mose's fiendish mind is coming up with a plan. "I'll take care of it, Uncle Pete," he replies. "Jus' like how I took care of everythin' else before." He hangs up the phone and turns to Mushmouse. "Don't you worry. You's still gettin' the fixin' you deserve, but not at my paws."

"You won't get away with this," Mushmouse snaps. "You jus' wait 'till Punkin' Puss finds out what you've been doin'; you'll be lucky to escape with yer life!"

Mose laughs. "Oh, I doubt that," he replies. "Now, my uncle called me to tell me to fix things up nice for when he an' my cousin come by. An' I've got a good idea for how to do it, too..."

* * *

 _Meanwhile, thirty miles away..._

"Hmmm...this is rather strange, ain't it, Droop?" Ricochet Rabbit mutters, looking around the bus station. "Both of 'em ain't here."

"Maybe- _oof_...!" His deputy, Droop-a-Long, trips over a rock and nearly sends their luggage and picnic basket falling on top of him. After straightening up, Droop-a-Long continues with, "Maybe they forgot, or they're still gettin' the food ready. Mr. Punkin' always liked takin' his time cookin'."

"True...but somethin' about this feels off," Ricochet answers. "Mushmouse told me that either he or Punkin' Puss would be here to meet us an' then we'd head off to the potluck." He groans. "I don't know. Maybe I'm overthinkin' it."

"I say we give 'em a few more minutes, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long suggests. "If they don't show up, we'll head up to their place. I remember where they live."

It's a reasonable suggestion, Ricochet thinks, but his sheriff's intuition is sending off warning bells. He doesn't want his deputy to worry, though; on their way here, the coyote had told him how happy he was that they had the weekend off for once. He gives him a small smile. "Alright, Droopy. Guess we'll jus' wait here until they show up," he answers.

With that, the two of them sit on the bench, waiting for any sign of their friends.

* * *

The farther along Punkin' Puss hikes, the more that sense of dread builds in his stomach. The rifle in his hands feels more like a hundred-pound weight as he marches up the hill, his cousins' rifles pointing at his back. He hears the distant hobbling of his father behind them, and feels the cruel pride in his look. His mouth was as dry as cotton and he was sweating bullets. In only a few minutes, he's going to commit murder, an act that he'd sworn to never commit in his life, not even during his feuding days with Mushmouse.

The faces of his friends filled his mind, one by one. There was Ricochet, the workaholic daredevil of a sheriff with a hot temper and a prideful nature, but a loyal friend. There was also his deputy, Droop-a-Long-slow-moving, slow-witted but good-natured Droop-a-Long, who was polite to a fault and loved company.

And then there was Mushmouse-the shrewd, cunning mouse he'd fought with for years during their destructive feud. The prankster with a heart of gold who'd convinced him that this feud was getting ridiculous. The mouse he'd never thought he'd call one of his closest friends.

The mouse who, in only a few minutes, he'd have to kill to save his own hide.

He imagines what his friends will think if they hear of this. Ricochet would make it his life's mission to bring him to justice, never forgiving him for his actions. Droop-a-Long would follow right behind, if only because Ricochet's his boss and it's his sworn duty as deputy, although he can see him being more sympathetic than the strong-willed rabbit.

Mushmouse's reaction was the worst of all. Already he can picture the terror in his eyes, the shock, the hint of anger. Being the motor mouth that he was, he'd even say things like 'All of this was nothin' but a lie' and 'You never changed at all'. To say nothing of Mushmouse's family, who'd probably kill him in retaliation and making this a violent family feud.

He bites his lip hard, and winces when one of his fangs pierces through. The pain is a small distraction, but not enough. _What have I gone an' done? I'm about ta go an' blow everythin' to pieces,_ he thinks. _I've gotta think of somethin' fast...gotta think of somethin' to change this so's nobody dies!_

A few minutes later, they're in front of his cabin. "Go on. Knock on the door," Bodiddly hisses.

Punkin' Puss obeys silently, his heart in his throat and his claws digging into his rifle. He walks up the two steps and knocks on the door twice, sucking on his bleeding lip all the while. The iron taste makes him shudder. In a minute or two, his senses are going to be overloaded with it.

The door opens and Mose is there, gnawing on a turkey bone. He smirks. "Howdy, cousin! I was wonderin' when you was gonna show up," he says. "Come on in. I'll show ya where I've got yer target."

Mose's cheerful tone was making Punkin' feel worse. But when he steps inside, the scent of blood hits his nose, and he whips to the left. In the corner, there are three mice who look just like Mushmouse, gagged and tied up with razor-thin floss. He recognizes Bat Mouseterson because of the bowler hat, but doesn't know the other two.

And in the middle of the room, pinned and tied above his mousehole, was Mushmouse. His small body is lined with dozens of cuts, many of them fresh and still glistening. Even from where he was standing he can tell that many of his bones were broken. His gaze is unfocused and full of pain, although when he looks up at Punkin' Puss, a gleam of hope fills his eyes.

For a brief moment, a flash of white-hot anger fills his veins. If his father and cousins weren't behind him right now, Punkin' Puss would turn his rifle towards Mose and blow his head clean off. Hurting his friends like this, and then forcing him to murder them...he wonders just how deep cruelty ran in his family.

Mose steps aside and shows Mushmouse off like a prize. "Took me a minute to do this, but I think I did a fine job," he says. "I can't wait to see what a buncha Mushmouses taste like."

"I call the one in the blue hat!" Bodiddly cries out.

"Mine's the one in green!" Horatio said.

"None of you touch the city-slicker," Mose replies. "I've got somethin' personal to settle with him."

"Enough all of ya. We're here to see that Punkin' Puss learns his lesson," his father Peter says. "An' as such, we're gonna wait until Mushmouse meets his end first."

Bat struggles even more against his binds, his shouts muffled. Mose laughs cruelly at this, and so do the rest of his family as Punkin' steps forward, his rifle held tightly in his hands.

Mushmouse's smile drops and his eyes go wide with fear. Punkin' Puss swears that he even sees him go a shade paler. "P-Punkin' Puss?" he asks, his voice taking on that wounded, high-pitched note.

It just makes that heart-wrenching feeling all the worse as he raises the rifle. It's a struggle as he squints one eye, and struggles to hold the gun steady. "I-I'm sorry, Mushmouse..." he says. His voice is choked with a sob. No, he can't do this, he can't bring himself to do this, how could he choose to do this? His arm is shaking, and his one open eye is already blurring over with tears. "I-I'm sorry..."

"You're gonna be real sorry iffin' you don't pull that trigger!" Horatio shouts.

"Make yer decision, Punkin', or we'll make it for ya," his father growls.

That does it for him. "Alright...an' I want ya to know somethin' else, too, Pa," he says, his breath shaky.

"What's that?"

"...that I'm not a monster like the rest of you are!" Punkin' roars, and he spins around, pointing his rifle above their heads. Everyone ducks, and he fires a clean shot into the air, barely missing his father. The backblast rattles his bones, but he manages to hold his own before stumbling back.

He knows who'll hear it and who'll come running, but he hopes that he won't be late.

Horatio jumps up then, rifle aimed at him and rage on his face. _"You double-dealin' little-!"_

Punkin' Puss doesn't have time to move. Horatio fires, and white hot pain floods Punkin' Puss' stomach as the bullet crashes through, sending him to the ground. He's barely aware of Mushmouse's scream over his own as he writhes in agony, clutching his stomach. The rest of his family is shouting and he hears an audible crack resound through the air, followed by a thud." _YOU FOOL!"_ his father roars. _"You killed 'im! You killed my son!"_

Punkin' Puss tries to speak, but it's enough to just keep breathing and keep calm through the chaos. _Ricochet...Droop-a-Long...where in the blue blazes are ya!?_

* * *

 _Below on the hill..._

The gunshot does it.

Ricochet shoots off the bench and snatches his gun holster. Droop-a-Long looks over at him, gnawing on a turkey wing. "What's wrong, Mr. Rico-"

"Come on, Deputy!" Ricochet orders, snatching said turkey wing and tossing it back in the basket. "We're gonna find Punkin' Puss an' Mushmouse!"

Droop-a-Long looks at him, dismayed. "But Ricochet-"

"You heard those shots as well as I did, Droop. My senses are tellin' me that somethin' bad is goin' down an' our friends are in the middle of it!" Ricochet drags Droop-a-Long to his feet. "Leave the lunch an' show me where ta go! We've gotta find 'em before it's too late!"

Droop-a-Long sighs. He's still hungry, but he knows nothing is going to convince Ricochet to stop once he's in this mood. "Alright, Mr. Ricochet. It's straight up the beaten path, then ya take a left when ya get to a fork in the road, cross a bridge an' then go straight up another hill. Their cabin's right at the top of that cliff."

"Thanks, Droop!" And before Droop-a-Long can stop him, Ricochet is off, a cloud of dust streaking through the forest. Birds flock to the sky at the disturbance and Droop-a-Long holds his hat down at the gust of wind that follows.

When the wind dies down, Droop-a-Long walks behind, slowly as usual. "Guess I'm walkin'..."

* * *

 _"PUNKIN' PUSS!"_

Mushmouse's voice is hoarse from screaming but he doesn't care. All he cares about is the cat lying on the ground, barely moving, his face twisted in pain. Blood is pooling in his paws and is spreading in a pool across the wood floor, staining it.

In front of him, the rest of Punkin' Puss' family has started fighting among themselves. Punkin's father has slapped Horatio to the ground, roaring about how he killed his son, and the others have ganged up on him, shouting that "That wasn't part of the plan, ya halfwit!" and "You were supposed to shoot off his ear, not his whole stomach!" Horatio was pleading, shouting, "I-I didn't mean to...he almost killed Uncle Pete-", and there was another slap as Pete knocked him down to the ground again.

If he wasn't so weak and if his bones weren't broken, Mushmouse would've run down to aid the cat and his cousins. He knew he couldn't do anything to them in this condition, but he was sure as heck determined to make them pay for treating their own kin like this, for making him choose between his friends and his family. But struggling against his binds is too much and causes his bones to ache even more.

The only thing he can do is watch his friend fight for his life while hell breaks loose in their home.

A roar of wind fills the air, but this wind is not natural. It roars with the force of an oncoming train, and above the chaos he could see a trail of dust miles high rise above the trees.

"What in tarnation is that?!" Horatio shouts, and for a second, the whole family collectively stops. Even Peter Punkin' Puss, who has his claws full of Horatio's shirt, turns in the direction of the cloud trail.

Everyone except Mose, who glares at Mushmouse. He picks up the rifle and points it at him. "Since Punkin' Puss didn't finish you off, I wi-"

 _"EVERYBODY, STOP!"_ someone shouts. There is a loud screech and the dust trail ends right at the cabin steps. "All of ya, stop fightin', drop yer guns an' let me by!"

Nobody argues. There is a collective thud as everyone drops their guns and moves over. The person who'd given the order steps in, a fierce scowl on his face.

Mushmouse's heart soars. "Ricochet!" he shouts.

Ricochet's eyes widen in horror when he sees him. "What in the blue blazes happened here?!" he shouts, running over to Mushmouse. "It's alright, Mushmouse, I'll get ya down-"

"D-Don't worry 'bout me!" Mushmouse says, even as Ricochet pulls off the floss and removes the tacks stuck through his hat and tail-none too gently, either, he adds mentally. "It's Punkin' Puss! H-He's been shot!"

"He has?!" Ricochet whirls around, and there is Punkin' Puss, who is all but completely still, groaning in pain. Ricochet goes a shade paler at this. "Oh no..." He rushes over as carefully as he could with Mushmouse in his hand and examines the cat. "Punk? Punkin', can ya hear me?!"

A low groan answers his question. He turns to Mushmouse. "Who did this?"

"I-It was his cousin, Horatio," Mushmouse answers. "P-Punkin' was supposed ta kill me, b-but he turned an' fired at his family instead, an' Horatio..."

The dark look Ricochet sends Punkin's family sets them all back. "Is that so?" he asks quietly.

"Y-Yeah...t-there's more to it, but..." Mushmouse looks down at the cat, and shudders. He knows he's still alive, but just barely and he's literally fighting for time. Big tears fall from his eyes. "P-Poor Punkin' Puss..."

"Is there anybody else involved?" Ricochet asks.

"M-My cousins, t-tied up over thar in that corner..."

"Sit here, Mushmouse," Ricochet says softly, setting him down next to Punkin's face. "I'll free your family...an' then I'm callin' the local authorities an' gettin' to the bottom of this." The last sentence is said with a growl and another pointed glare towards Punkin's family before he runs over to help Mushmouse's cousins.

Not long after he leaves, Punkin' lets out a cry of pain, which he quickly tries to hide with a hiss. Mushmouse crawls over and asks, "P-Punkin' Puss?"

"Muh...M-Mush...mouse...?" Punkin' wheezes, his eyes cracking open. "Y-You's still alive?"

"Y-Yeah...Ricochet got here just in time," Mushmouse replies, swallowing back a sob.

"...I-I knew he'd hear that shot," Punkin' says, a small smile on his face.

"Y-Ya mean you planned that?!" Mushmouse shouts.

"I-It was my only backup plan...kinda made it up at the last minute, but still...t-thank goodness fer that..."

His eyes start to close and worry settles in Mushmouse. "P-Punkin', you's gotta hold on," Mushmouse says.

"Yeah." Ricochet whirls around behind him, his eyes filled with seriousness. "We're gettin' ya the help ya need."

"B-But Ricochet, there ain't no way-" Punkin' Puss starts, only to groan.

Ricochet is over there in a split second, and for a moment, Mushmouse can't help but be wowed by the rabbit's speed. "Don't you get ta talkin' like that. Iffin' I know you, you've still got some fight in ya yet," he says. "An' I'll be darned iffin' I let you die right here an' now." He turns to one of Mushmouse's cousins, who are now freed by the wall. "Can one of ya call the doctor?"

"I'm on it!" Luke shouts, and he and his cousins are racing for the phone.

"Ricochet, what're we gonna do 'bout Punkin' Puss?" Mushmouse asks.

"He's gonna be fine. I know he is," Ricochet replies, giving the mouse one of his confident smiles. "As for the rest of his family...well, I'll leave that to the sheriff of this jurisdiction." Looking up at them with another frown, he finishes, "I jus' hope they get what they deserve."

Mushmouse silently agrees.

* * *

An hour later, Droop-a-Long arrives on the scene, and the whole cabin is swarmed with the boys in blue. The remaining members of Punkin's family have scattered...all except Punkin's father, Mose and Horatio, who were kept under watch by Ricochet; the rabbit had his hand on his gun glaring at their backs with fury. Droop-a-Long knows that expression. If someone even tried to make a move, they'd be in handcuffs before they could blink.

Droop-a-Long had heard the story through word of mouth, and he'd prayed that it wasn't true. Punkin' Puss couldn't be dead; he was a fighter, a wild, passionate fighter, not one to give up even if he got seriously hurt...it sounded monstrously wrong to his own ears.

But then he'd run into Susie McStomp, the hill girl who'd wanted to marry Punkin' Puss several times, crying her heart out...and he knew then that it was no joke. He was fighting tears himself when he'd made it to the cabin.

He can't believe it. Punkin' Puss, wild, irate but good-natured Punkin' Puss, was dead, victim of a senseless feud.

Droop-a-Long walks up to the porch. Mushmouse, who is battered and broken, appears to tugging on Ricochet's belt as if to restrain the sheriff. "Ricochet, don't hurt 'em none. This isn't yer jurisdiction!"

"I know, but these three almost got my friend killed!" Ricochet snaps. "I'm makin' sure they're not pullin' anythin'!"

Almost. Punkin' Puss had _almost_ died. This gives Droop-a-Long some sense of peace, but only a little. Ricochet's anger at this meant that he was still seriously injured. He knows the sheriff too well; if any of his friends are in the crossfire, he'll stop at nothing to make the people responsible pay.

"We're already handlin' things, Sheriff Ricochet," one of the cops says.

"Not well enough, from what I'm seein'!" Ricochet retorts.

"Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long says quietly. "Let the local cops handle 'em. We can't do but so much."

Ricochet stares at him incredulously. "Are you _kiddin' me_ , Droop-a-Long? These three-"

"Ricochet, I know what they did. An' I heard what happened. I'm sad an' angry too, but shootin' them isn't gonna help. Let the local cops handle this," he answers.

Ricochet grumbles, but lets go of the three cats, who all look relieved. He stalks off the porch, and Droop-a-Long hurries after him.

"Ricochet-"

"Don't, Droop. Jus'...jus' don't say anythin' right now, alright?" Ricochet replies. He marches off, heading down the hill and into the forest.

Droop-a-Long sighs. He might as well-no use talking to the sheriff when he's in this mood.

Hturns to Mushmouse, who leans against the rail, his ears drooping and tears running down his face. Seeing the usually spirited mouse like this broke his heart. He knelt down in front of him. "Mr. Mushmouse?" he asks. "A-Are ya okay?"

"I-I got tortured, have several bones broken in my body, my best friend jus' got shot an' I don't even know what's gonna happen to 'im. T-The doc wouldn't tell us. Other than that, yeah, I'm doin' great!" Mushmouse says a little too cheerfully. Droop-a-Long stares in horror as he begins to shudder. "A-After all...w-who wouldn't be okay a-after all of that?!"

"Y-Ya poor thing..." Droop-a-Long scoops Mushmouse up and lets him rest on his shoulder, allowing him to cry. He sniffles. "Y-Ya poor, poor thing...you must've suffered a lot..."

"S-So did Punkin' Puss, but his family didn't care 'bout that!" Mushmouse sobs. "He's gone, Droop-a-Long! He's gone ta go up to those big ol' hills in the sky! I jus' know it!"

"I don't think that's true," Droop-a-Long says. "Mr. Punkin's a strong feller. He'll come outta this alright. T-They'll save 'im for sure, Mr. Mushmouse, sir..."

Mushmouse sniffles. "I-Iffin' I wasn't so torn up, I-I'd get on ya 'bout callin' me 'Mr. Mushmouse' again," he says.

"Sorry," Droop-a-Long says. "It's a habit." He removes the mouse and looks at him. "How's about I make us some chow? It'll help keep yer mind offa things."

"Y-Ya sure about that?" Mushmouse looks back at the house, which is still in shambles after the Punkin' family entry. "I-I don't feel too keen 'bout eatin' inside..."

"You don't have to. We'll sit out here an' wait fer news on Mr. Punkin'," Droop-a-Long says. In truth, he's not hungry, but he doesn't want Mushmouse dwelling on this for too long. "I'll make ya some of those boiled turnips ya like so much."

"Y-Ya always did make boiled turnips better'n anybody else around here," Mushmouse replies.

Droop-a-Long smiles and he walks inside the house. The stench of blood hits him hard, but he tries to keep himself under control. "One bowl of boiled turnips comin' up."

* * *

Hours later, peace has temporarily returned to the cabin. Punkin's father, Horatio and Mose were taken to prison. Ricochet, after taking a moment to calm down, returned later that evening to eat dinner with the others. After hours of conversation, they all fell asleep outside on the porch, being too uncomfortable to sleep inside due to the blood, using Droop-a-Long and Ricochet as makeshift pillows complete with blankets.

But even with all his friends and some of his family with him, Mushmouse can't be at peace.

He can't sleep, either. It's mostly because of the pain, but also because the ordeal has already plagued his dreams. He'd had to stifle his screams twice so as to not wake anybody, although Ricochet had started when he heard one of his screams.

He remembers when Punkin' Puss had told him he'd go after his own family to save their friendship. He'd never said it to his face, but he'd thought that he was saying it just to make him feel better. He'd never thought he'd actually do it. He'd never thought that Punkin' Puss would throw himself in danger to save him or his cousins.

It then hits him that this is the second time that Punkin' Puss has thrown himself in the crossfire just to save his life. It's then that Mose's words echo in his mind.

 _"Ya know, this whole situation is all yer fault, Mushmouse. Nothin' would be happenin' to Punkin' Puss iffin' ya learned your place."_

 _Don't believe that,_ Mushmouse thinks, shaking his head and shivering, even though it makes his body come alive with pain. _Don't believe that for one second._

Still, Mushmouse can't help but think there's some truth to his words. Nothing would've happened to Punkin' if their feud had gone on like always.

But that would've meant that he'd be as miserable as always. And that keeps Mose's words away, for a little while.

He gives in to sleep at the crack of dawn, and that's when the doctor arrives, panting. His bloodstained clothes tell of his ordeal. Mushmouse sits up quickly, sending another flash of pain through him.

"Doc? What's happened?" Mushmouse asks, and Ricochet stirs at this. "What happened ta Punkin' Puss?"

"It took a lot of work...but I did it," the doctor says. "I saved 'im. I don't know how he's still alive after all that, but he is."

"He is?!" Ricochet says, jumping up and nearly knocking Mushmouse over.

"Yup. My assistant's tendin' to him now, but he won't be much in a chattin' mood. He's still on a lot of meds. You can wait in the office, but I'll let you know when he wakes up," he said.

Emotion overcomes Mushmouse then, emotion that he can't contain. He wipes his eyes so hard he almost tears them out. "T-Thank goodness!" he cries. "T-Thank goodness he's alive...I-I'm a-gonna rip 'im a new one for makin' me worry like that...!"

"Heh, you an' me both," Ricochet replies, but he's smiling as well and there are some tears in his eyes. "What'd I tell ya? There was still some fight in 'im yet."

"Well, why're we still standin' around fer?" Droop-a-Long asks. "Let's go!"

It's the first time that anybody readily agrees with one of Droop-a-Long's ideas. And with that, the group rushes down the hill and into town, anxious to hear news about their friend.

 **End of Part 2**

* * *

 _ **The next part of this is going to be the epilogue, I promise! :D**_

 ** _But yeah...kinda dramatic there, huh? I had a different ending in mind, but I couldn't bring myself to kill Punkin' Puss (even though I killed Ricochet off in "Blazin' Trails" and Huck off in "The Ghost of Huckleberry Hound"), and my brother didn't like the idea either. So yup, our favorite hillbilly cat lives! :D And for those wondering, yes, Punkin's family will get their just desserts in the epilogue. I wanted so badly for Ricochet to give it to them, but it's not his district anymore, ya know?_**

 ** _And Ricochet and Droop-a-Long being in this story wasn't JUST because they're my favorites; it's also a reference to some Hanna-Barbera material that shows them interacting with Punkin' Puss and Mushmouse. I couldn't resist the urge to put them in there :D_**

 ** _I'd better be careful lest this story becomes like "Have Guitar, Will Travel"-so big it needs more chapters XD But I promise that next chapter will wrap everything up._**

 ** _Constructive criticism is welcome!_**

 ** _God bless, iheartgod175_**


	3. You Don't Gotta Worry 'Bout Nothin' Else

**A/N:** As I promised, this is the real final part of this three-shot, or in other words, the story that wouldn't leave me alone for a whole week. :) I did my best on it, though, because a good ending is what every good story deserves, am I right? Thanks to all who have been reading this thus far. And thanks again to Vulaan Kulaas for her inspirational stories...and for bringing out my dark side :)

And now, here's the final part of this story!

 **Disclaimer:** *points at part 2's disclaimer*

* * *

 **Temporary Truce**

 **Epilogue: You Don't Gotta Worry 'Bout Nothin' Else**

Mushmouse's stomach growls.

In all truth, he wishes that they'd eaten breakfast before they'd come down to the town doctor, but everyone's too anxious. Droop-a-Long's the only person who looks calm-Bat is toying with his cane, Rufus has his head buried in his knees, Luke is rocking back and forth, and Ricochet is sitting on the other side of the bench, his leg shaking.

Eating right now while everyone's this nervous would only make them sick, he thinks. He tries to stretch out, but finds that he can only go so far before his injuries flare.

Ricochet whirls around when he hears him cry out in pain, and his face twists in concern. "Mushmouse, ya need to get checked out," he says.

"I-I'll be fine, Ricochet," he replies. "Jus' a lil' stiff is all."

"Any more of that movin' like that, an' you'll be more than stiff!" Ricochet retorts, although under that anger is concern. "You could end up not movin' at all!"

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?"

"Take care of yourself," Ricochet says quietly. "After what you've been through, ya need to."

There's no lying about that. But Mushmouse wishes that Ricochet hadn't brought that up, since now the ordeal from yesterday is flashing in his mind.

Ricochet sighs. "Look...I'm about the last person who should be talkin' about takin' care of themselves. I don't even do it all the time myself," he answers. "But ya can't take care of someone when you're in no better shape than they are. You need to have yerself looked at an' cleaned up."

"But-"

"I'm worried about 'im just as much as you are, Mushmouse," Ricochet interrupts, looking over at him. "But I'm worried about you, too. An' I don't want ya to get hurt or worse. I'm not tellin' ya this 'cause I'm a sheriff, Mushmouse. I'm tellin' ya this 'cause I'm your friend, and I know what I'm talkin' about."

Mushmouse looks up at Ricochet, and for a moment, he half considers ignoring the rabbit's warning. But the seriousness in his eyes isn't to be missed. And although he's beyond worried for Punkin' Puss, he knows the cat's going to be even more worried if he doesn't take care of himself-and that certainly wouldn't be good for his health.

He sighs. "Reckon you're right, Ricochet," he says.

Ricochet breathes a sigh of relief and gives the mouse a smile. "Ain't I always?" he says. "Now come on. I'll take ya."

Mushmouse doesn't protest as Ricochet scoops him up and leads him to the office.

* * *

 _Several hours later..._

 _You'd better wake up, or say somethin',_ Mushmouse thinks as he looks at Punkin' Puss'. _'Cause I swear, if you die..._

The doctor who'd treated him had told him that he needed to get some rest and not stress out. But there's no way he can do that, when the source of his stress is laying here, unconscious, breathing in and out slowly. He knows everyone's worried about him, especially because of the ordeal he'd gone through nearly a day before. And in all honesty, he can't blame them for being worried.

But he knows that he'll only get any rest when the cat wakes up. Until then, nobody's making him move, not even Ricochet, who'd threatened to handcuff him to a chair if he tried to resist. Not like that would've held him anyway.

A low groan escapes Punkin's throat and the cat's face twists with pain. Mushmouse shifts forward uneasily, sending pain into his shoulder. "Punkin'? Punky, can ya hear me?" he asks softly. That feeling doesn't ease even when the pained look lessens.

Even when they'd been feuding, and even when he'd get hurt, Punkin' Puss was wild, persistent, _alive_. Watching him fight for his life and knowing that he was the reason why he was here...it feels wrong. Monstrously wrong.

 _Please wake up, or say somethin',_ Mushmouse thinks, _even if it's a rant against me or somethin'..._

A few seconds later, Punkin opens his eyes. They're unfocused at first, but after a few blinks, he looks around the room-first to his right, and then to his left. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees him.

"...Mushmouse...? How'd you get in here?" he asks, and then he coughs before clearing his throat. "I-I thought you was at the cabin..."

It feels like a hundred pound weight has been lifted from his mind. _Thank_ goodness _..._

"Mushmouse?" Punkin' Puss starts, watching as the mouse loses his composure. He tries to sit up to get a better look at him, but his stomach protests that movement. Mushmouse stumbles over to him, and from the look on his face it's more painful than it looks. "Mushmouse, ya don't-"

"S-Save it," Mushmouse mutters, before sitting in front of his face. He swallows back a sob before looking up at him, and his eyes are full of anger "Why?"

"Why what, Mushmouse?" Punkin' Puss asks.

"W-Why'd ya do it, that's what! Why'd you run into danger like that?!" Mushmouse shouts finally. He should really stop doing so-at this rate, he's going to lose his voice-but the anger and desperation he feels is already exploding to the surface. "Y-You almost died for _good_ this time, Punkin' Puss!"

"Mushm-"

"Do ya know how close you was to dyin'? Do ya know how many folks would be upset iffin' you died?!" Mushmouse continues. "Yer family for one thing, but yer friends were jus' as angry an' upset! Ricochet nearly whipped yer whole family for what they'd done to ya!"

"You's lucky you're still alive an' talkin', Mushmouse!" Punkin' Puss snaps. "If I didn't do anythin', my family would've finished you off themselves! My paw forced me to come in' an' kill ya as proof that I 'learnt my lesson' 'bout catses an' mouses. But I couldn't bring mahself to do it. So I turned an' fired at the rest of 'em instead."

Punkin's words before he'd turned and shot at his family came to mind. Mushmouse looks at him in shock. "Y-You...you wasn't really tryin' to kill yer family, were ya?" he asks.

"Nuh-uh. I was tryin' ta scare 'em, namely my pa. But mostly, I was tryin' to get help. I knew that Ricochet an' Droop-a-Long were on their way, so I had to warn 'em somehow," Punkin' Puss explains. "To be honest, I was expectin' one of 'em to shoot me or you. But I didn't expect it ta happen so fast."

"You mean...ya saw that comin' and you just stood there?!" Mushmouse says. "Are ya really that crazy?!"

"Don't give me that look!" Punkin' Puss retorted, seeing the mouse's face scrunch up. "I didn't have time to move or anythin', but if I had, you'd be dead an' gone, Mushmouse." There's a pause as Punkin' Puss tries to get himself comfortable, his face twisting with pain. "That's 'bout the only reason I did what I did. I...I didn't want ya to die, whether by my hand or by my family's." A dark look enters his eyes then. "Trust me, you wouldn't want to be finished off by them."

"Mose gave me a taste of that," Mushmouse says. He sighs. "Sorry 'bout snappin' like that. I was holdin' in a lotta things. I was angry 'bout what they did to me, an' to you...but I couldn't do nothin'. Those cats are scarier than you were when we was feudin'." His ears droop low. "An' yesterday, I really thought y-you was gonna die. You've done a lotta things to scare me before, but I was outright terrified."

The dark look in the cat's eyes gives way to outright sympathy. "Mushmouse..."

"Promise me somethin', Punkin' Puss," Mushmouse says quietly. "Promise me you'll _never_ do somethin' like that again. A-Any more stunts like that an' I'll rip ya a new one, ya hear?"

"I hear ya," Punkin' Puss answers. "An' I promise I won't do nothin' like that no more."

"Y-You know I'm holdin' you to that, right?" Mushmouse asks. "I-I m-mean it, you'd better not do n-nothin' like that ever again...!" Before he knows it, he's sobbing again, and he wants to kick himself for it. But no matter what he tries, he just can't stop crying. "I-I'm sorry, I-"

"Say nothin' else, Mushmouse," Punkin' Puss says. He sounds tired, but a closer look at his face reveals that he's just as sad. "Y-You don't gotta say nothin' else..."

By way of replying, Mushmouse continues to sob.

* * *

 _Several hours later..._

There's another knock on the door, and Punkin' Puss sighs. Nearly the whole town's visited since they heard he'd woken up, so he can't really think of who'd be at the door now. "Come in," Punkin' Puss croaks, before coughing again.

The door creaks open and a pair of curious yellow eyes peer in. "Is the coast clear?" Ricochet asks.

"Yeah. But the lot 'of them will be back tomorrow," Punkin' replies as Ricochet makes his way in. "They'll be bringin' gifts an' food and stuff."

"Didn't the doc say you were supposed to be on a liquid diet for the next two months?" Ricochet asks.

"I tried tellin' them, but they wanted ta," Punkin' replies. "Trust me, that's probably gonna be the worst part, other than sittin' in bed all day long not bein' able to move much."

"Yeah..." Ricochet drew a wood stool over to the bed and sat in front of the cat. "How're you holdin' up?"

Punkin' rolls his eyes. "Ricochet, iffin' ya can't tell by how I look-"

"No, Punkin', I meant mentally," Ricochet clarified. "'Cause I'm a-gonna be honest, physically ya look like crap!"

"Gee, that's right nice of ya to point out," Punkin' replies sourly.

"I told ya I was gonna be honest," Ricochet says with a shrug. "But seriously...how are ya holdin' up, with what happened back thar with your family?"

Punkin' groans. "Well, not very well, iffin' ya wanna know," he says. "An' why do ya wanna know? You didn't ever ask me 'bout 'em before, an' I recollect you don't tell me what's goin' on with yer family every time we meet up!"

Ricochet frowned. "I wanna know 'cause a few of them are here to see ya," he says.

That stops his next remark. "W-What?" he asks. "Which ones?"

"Which ones?"

"The ones from my maw's side of the family, or my paw's side?"

"I don't know. All I know is that the hallway is flooded with cats clamin' ta be yer family," Ricochet says. He looks behind him and then leans forward and lowers his voice. "An' just between the two of us, I've heard a few rumors around that a few of 'em are lookin' to 'fix' any mouse who comes wanderin' around here. Droop-a-Long had ta hide Mushmouse's cousins from sight, although a few of 'em are pokin' him."

"They're definitely from my paw's side," Punkin' growls. "An' they can smell those mice on Droop. I'm certain of it."

"I'm tryin' to think of what to do with Mushmouse's family. By now, most of 'em have heard the news an' are tryin' to make their way here," Ricochet continues. "If they come here, it could get ugly."

"Ugly? Don't you recognize a massacre when it's about ta happen?" Punkin' Puss retorts. "They'll try ta kill each other."

"Thankfully, Droop-a-Long had the sense to call the police ahead of time, in case they get too restless," Ricochet says. "But if all else fails, I'll do somethin'."

"Ricochet, ya don't have to do anythin'."

"Is that your concern or your pride talkin'?"

"I'm bein' serious, Ricochet! I gets that you want to help, but I can handle it," Punkin' Puss replies.

"If this is anythin' to go by, you're handlin' it real well."

"Why, you smart-alecky lil' hunk of aggravation! I'd squeeze you iffin' I could get a hold on you!"

"Even if you could, you'd lose. Just sayin'."

Punkin' Puss growls slightly. "Dunno why I even let you in here in the first place," he grumbles.

"'Cause I'm your friend, of course," Ricochet retorts. "I sure wouldn't have come a-high-tailin' over here if I wasn't."

"Ya know, I'm a-startin' to wish ya hadn't heard that gunshot."

"That's odd, considerin' you fired it so I could hear it," Ricochet points out. "An' you knew I'd hear it, too, didn't ya?"

Punkin' Puss glowers at Ricochet. He wasn't about to let the rabbit make him admit he was right. "So what, ya want me ta thank ya for comin' here or somethin'?"

"What I want ya to do is stop pushin' away the folks who wanna help ya," Ricochet says, his frown deepening. "Punkin' Puss, as much as you don't wanna admit it, you've got friends who care about ya and would race to yer side if you needed 'em right then. An' I'm not sayin' this just 'cause I literally did it yesterday. I'm sayin' it because it's true. Droop-a-Long, Mushmouse, his cousins an' near everyone in town was worried."

"But-"

"And outta all the fool things you can say, how can you wish that I didn't hear that gunshot?" Ricochet starts indignantly. "Would you prefer it if I didn't bat an eye, or not give a crap about what's goin' on, and let you an' Mushmouse die? Would you prefer it if I were that heartless, Punkin' Puss?"

Punkin' Puss stares at Ricochet in shock. Now that the words were coming out of the rabbit's mouth instead of his own, it sounds more callous than he'd meant it to be. "Well, no, of course not-"

"Then don't say things like that!" Ricochet snaps. "You know I would never leave you or Mushmouse for dead or to handle somethin' this big on yer own. So don't even go there with me, 'cause you sure as heck know how I am when it comes to my friends."

Punkin' Puss was silent for the first time in hours. Ricochet's face was red, a sign that he was beyond angry. "R-Ricochet, simmer down a second," he says.

"Why? So you can keep goin' on about-"

"Look, I's tryin' to apologize, alright?!" Punkin' Puss shouts, stopping the sheriff cold. "Yeah, what I said was foolish, an' I'm sorry about it. But I kinda do wish that you didn't hear it, 'cause now you all are drawn into my problems." Guilt nibbles at him and he averts his eyes from Ricochet, instead turning his gaze towards the room's other occupant, who was curled up on the pillow, snoring peacefully. For a moment he's amazed that the mouse slept through their shouting, but he's also glad for it. "Mushmouse gettin' caught in this was bad enough. But for you all to come in here..." He pauses, not sure if he really wants to continue the sentence.

"You don't want us caught in the crossfire either," Ricochet says, his tone softer than it was earlier. He's got his arms folded, his expression a cross between contemplation and sympathy. The color in his face is returning to normal, which is a good sign. "That's somethin' I can understand. Sometimes, I've had the same thing happen to me."

"Sometimes?" Punkin' says.

"Okay, _a lot_ of the time," Ricochet huffs, but then his tone grows quiet again. "But you've gotta understand that when I came runnin', I was gonna do what I could to save you two, whether I knew what was goin' on or not, whether I'd get hurt or not. That's part of my duty as a sheriff, you know...but I also wouldn't call myself a good person if I wouldn't do the same for any of my friends." He looks up at Punkin' Puss finally, and there is real concern in those eyes, concern that sets him back. "When I saw you lyin' on the floor, an' saw how tore up Mushmouse was...I thought I was too late."

"Ricochet..."

"I didn't wanna think that, 'cause this is _you_ we're talkin' about...but even I started to believe what folks were sayin'," Ricochet says. "I came in here to offer any help I could provide, Punkin', so you can settle this once an' for all. I may not be sheriff of this region, but I've got connections around an' I can help out if it gets to be too much."

"Ricochet, there's no need for you all to-"

"For goodness' sakes, put your pride aside!" Ricochet snaps, but his voice cracks on the second-to-last word. He trembles slightly, his eyes filling with tears. "Almost losin' ya was bad enough! Do you really want to put everyone through that pain and grief by gettin' yourself killed?!"

Almost immediately, his mind wanders back to how Mushmouse had been a few hours before, sobbing and telling him how worried he was. Ricochet, of course, wasn't sobbing his eyes out, but the effect was just about the same. Ricochet hardly cried, especially in front of his friends, so for him to lose his composure like this meant that he wasn't here to nag him like normal.

"You...you all were really that worried?"

"Yes, you knucklehead! I was enough keepin' myself under control in front of yer family!" Ricochet replies. He wipes his eyes hard. "Look...I-I don't wanna go through that a second time, Punk. I want to help prevent somethin' like that from happenin' again. An' trust me, you may need it."

"Much as I dislikes this, you's right. My family ain't gonna help me...the ones on my paw's side at least," Punkin' replies. "I'll let ya help me iffin' I need it...but I don't want ya diggin' too far into it." When Ricochet frowned, he continues, "An' I'm not jus' sayin' that 'cause I don't like you pokin' in my business. I'm sayin' it because most of us hillbilly folk don't like it neither...an' as my family proves, they're quick ta shut you up if ya keep askin' questions."

"Hmm..." Ricochet folds his arms. "That's gonna be right hard..."

"Ricochet, I'm askin' ya as yer friend," Punkin' Puss continues. "Trust me, if'n it weren't for the local boys, I'd give you the job of gettin' my paw an' the rest of my cousins. But you'd get a lot more enemies than what ya have now..."

"I ain't worried 'bout any enemy, Punkin'."

"You's stubborn, you know that?"

"Look who's talkin' about stubbornness," Ricochet snorts.

"Consarn it, I don't want ya gettin' hurt either! I know better'n you do how us hillfolk act. An' I'm not sayin' that a Westerner like you couldn't take 'em, but you wouldn't come out unhurt...an' I wouldn't react all peaceful-like," Punkin' says. "I'm askin' you, for yer own safety, to not go too far into this whole matter. Iffin' there's more goin' on, I'll let ya know. But fer now, don't get in too deep, alright?"

Ricochet lets out a noise that's a cross between a grunt and a sigh. "Alright, then. I won't for your sake," he says. "But I mean it, if somethin' like this happens again, I'm gonna find out what's goin' on, one way or another. An' you know I will."

Punkin' Puss sighs. It's always in one ear and out the other with this guy. "Well, now that we's got that settled, I think I'd better let ya get goin'," he says.

"Yeah. I'd better let you get some rest. With the time I took up, I think visitin' hours are over," Ricochet says, groaning as he stretches. After relaxing, he looks at the cat with a slightly less concerned look. "You sure you'll be alright? I can take Mushmouse outta here an' hide 'im under my hat."

"Thanks, but I think I'll keep 'im right here," he says. "'sides, he looked tuckered out after he finished cryin'."

"Don't tell 'im I said this, but he had a terrible night's sleep. Woke me up several times with his screamin'," Ricochet answers, looking over at the mouse. "Reckon seein' you was what he needed to calm down."

"Ya can take 'im out in the mornin' before the rest of my family gets here. I'd be much obliged if ya could."

"Right." Ricochet gets up and straightens his hat. "Well, I reckon I'd better get out there. Droop-a-Long might need my help right about now. Afterwards, I'll probably eat an' figure out what's goin' on at the prison."

"You never take a day off in yer life, do ya?" Punkin' Puss says.

"When you're a sheriff, ya get used to it," Ricochet answers. "Now you stay in that bed an' don't do anythin' else, or I'll personally throw ya back in here, ya reckless daredevil."

"I don't wanna hear that from the feller who's in the hospital every other week!"

"Says the guy who almost got his head blown off months ago!"

"Smarty-aleck rabbit," Punkin' Puss grumbles.

"Stubborn hillcat," Ricochet retorts with a smirk, and then he's gone.

Punkin' groans, but it's the only time he's going to let Ricochet have the last word unchallenged. He looked over at Mushmouse, and sighs. He's grateful for the rabbit's offering for help, but if it weren't for him, his friends wouldn't have gotten involved in this. Mushmouse wouldn't have gotten caught in the crossfire, and he wouldn't have been left for dead.

He sighs as he settles back into the covers. Tomorrow's going to be a tough one, that's for sure.

* * *

Mushmouse awakes a few hours later, although it's not because he's had a restful sleep (though he admits that it was better than last night's). It's because someone's entered the room, and that someone doesn't feel like one of his friends.

He tries to sit up, only for a hand to close around him, blocking his vision for a split second before red fills it. Sharp claws dig into his back, and he can't help but scream-although it's quickly muffled by another squeeze.

"...so you's the mouse responsible for this," someone growls out, hatred dripping in their tone. It sounds like Punkin' Puss, and Mushmouse is about to ask what's going on, when the person continues with, "You's the mouse responsible fer what happened to my paw an' my brother!"

It wasn't Punkin', but it served little relief to Mushmouse. This cat, another one of Punkin's relatives, was going to kill him, and Punkin' wouldn't be awake to hear it.

"My pa an' my cousins are in the slammer 'cause of you. An' no sooner did they get in thar than half of the townsfolk tried to give 'em a beatin'. Got their hands on Horatio an' left him in worse condition than Punkin' Puss," the cat snarls. "An' get this, my paw's gettin' ten years for this. Ten years! Cousin' Mose's gonna get fifteen! All for what, for toyin' with a mouse?!""

Mushmouse is barely aware of the snarl in the cat's voice-he's more aware of the bones popping in his body. "I'm gonna squeeze ya good fer what ya did. You deserves it, ya dad-burned mouse!"

Mushmouse's life flashes before his eyes, and he can't help but think that for all his shortcomings, he'd lived a good one, at least. At least if he died now, he wouldn't suffer anymore, and neither would any of his friends.

He hears a sharp blow, and the cat's grip on his body quickly loosens. Both the cat and Punkin' Puss let out cries of pain, and Mushmouse falls back on the bed, gulping down precious air.

"Son of a-" The other cat glowers at them. "I thought you was asleep."

"You thought wrong, Elmer," Punkin' Puss snarls, and Mushmouse can only watch as the cat tries to push himself up on the bed. "Now, I hopes you's got a good reason as to why you attacked Mushmouse. 'Cause iffin' you don't, I'm-a k-nock the senses right outta yer head!"

"If anybody needs to get the senses knocked outta their head, it's you," Elmer snaps. "You sidin' with this measly mouse set yer family 'gainst ya."

"Why're you here anyways?" Punkin' Puss demands. Mushmouse is pushed back into the pillow with Punkin's good arm, and although the contact hurts him, it does protect him from the other murderous cat. "When they said you all were here to see me, I wasn't expectin' this."

"Ya should've. I'm here to take care of that mouse for ya. If you don't, the rest of the family will," Elmer replies. "An' don't think they won't. They're ready ta do it, too."

"Over my dead body y'all will," Punkin' snarls.

"Punk-" Mushmouse starts.

"If that's the way you want it, I can arrange that," Elmer says. "This is yer last chance, Punkin'. Take it, or you's gonna regret it." He opens the door and makes his way out, slamming it.

Punkin's good arm shakes, and Mushmouse looks up at the cat, who is looking down at the ground. "Punkin' Puss, you okay?" he asks.

"Of course I ain't okay!" Punkin' snaps, turning to face the mouse. Anger is blazing in his eyes. "The minute I'm asleep, my brother tries to come in an' kill ya, an' declared all-out war on me!"

"Is...is this 'cause of me, Punkin' Puss?" Mushmouse says quietly. "'Cause..."

"'Cause what? You's thinkin' that we was better off not bein' friends in the first place?" Punkin' retorts, his tone bitter.

"If it was all gonna come to this, then yes!" Mushmouse shouts.

Silence comes upon them. Mushmouse thinks for a fearful second that Punkin' Puss is going to lose his temper, and he tenses as he feels Punkin' Puss shift to turn and look at him. He can't look the cat in the eye, not after what he's said.

"Mushmouse, are ya sayin' that because you don't want folks gettin' hurt?" Punkin' asks.

The soft tone is so unlike the cat that Mushmouse can't help but look up, although he cautions himself upon doing so. Occasionally, Punkin' would use the quiet-then-explosive type of anger. But when he looked up at Punkin', he saw the concern in his eyes. He lowers his gaze, and nods. "I-It's been eatin' away at me all day. Yer family don't like mice no how, an' they don't want any cats that like 'em," he says.

"...I know. I know fer a fact that they don't."

"There's somethin' you ain't tellin' me," Mushmouse points out. "I can see it."

"It's nothin'," Punkin' replies, and Mushmouse can see that he's trying to put a wall up. "It's nothin' you should worry about, Mushmouse."

"Nothin' my foot! You looked terrified when I talked to ya earlier," Mushmouse says. "Like somethin' scared ya real bad, or there's somethin' else goin' on that you don't want me to know about!"

"Mushmouse-"

"Punkin', for goodness sakes, ya can't hide whatever it is you're hidin' forever!"

"...there was another reason I went with Paw's plan to kill ya," Punkin' Puss starts.

Mushmouse feels his stomach drop. "What?! What other reason would you-"

"...My family is the other reason."

"I know that! You already told me-"

"I didn't tell ya everythin'. I didn't even tell Ricochet, an' he ripped into me the most."

"What else do ya have to tell me?" Mushmouse demands.

Punkin bites the side of his lip nervously. "They beat the tar outta me when I was at my paw's house. I wasn't gonna give in, no matter what they did. But Horatio...in between beatin' me up, he told me the story of how one of my uncles, Uncle Arkie, became friends with a mouse in these yar hills after savin' his life. He'd hid their friendship from his family, but the rest of 'em found out. They threatened 'im, beat 'im up, an' scared the mouse outta his family home, but nothin' worked. So...one of my uncles called my paw, an' he called on my cousins." Punkin' swallows hard. "One day, he went down to the lake ta swim, an' my cousins followed behind. They shot 'im, an' he drowned in the lake."

"W-What...what happened to the mouse?"

"Horatio told me that after they killed 'im, they went after the mouse. The way they finished 'im, chasin' him to the point of exhaustion an' then firin' on him while he was defenseless..." Punkin' shudders. "They told me that if I didn't learn my lesson, that was gonna happen to me, o-only it'd be worse, 'cause I fought back."

Icy terror fills Mushmouse's veins. A tinge of horror comes upon him, when he sees Punkin's eyes watering. "Punkin' Puss, you-"

"I-I didn't wanna do it, Mushmouse...I swear on my ma's life I didn't wanna do it. B-But after hearin' that horrible story, a-an' seein' how eager they looked, like they wanted ta do it again...I-I was so terrified, I agreed. I-I was bein' a coward, but I knew if I didn't, they'd kill me, an' they'd kill you too. B-But I couldn't..." A sob escapes his throat then, and tears fall on Mushmouse's face. "I-I couldn't _do_ it, Mushmouse. I-I've done terrible things to ya before, d-durin' our feud, but I couldn't kill ya. I didn't _want_ to kill ya. An' I didn't want anyone else to die. It was s-so bad I had to get Ricochet and Droop-a-Long to help, but after this, I-I don't want 'em involved no more."

"Why? They's the best chance you got!"

"So what if they is!? My family not only killed one o' own, they even killed his friend! T-They'd kill all of y'all, an' I just...I-I thought if I took care of this mahself, it'd spare ya all the pain. But I-I only made it worse...y-y'all are gonna die, a-an' it'll be my fault..."

"Punkin'..."

"I-I'm sorry, Mushmouse," Punkin' Puss says. "I-I'm so sorry..."

Mushmouse watches as the cat gradually loses his composure. During their feuding days, he used to wish to see this, to expose him as the paranoid coward he was. But now that he's here in front of him, torn apart with anger and guilt...he'd have to be an utter sadist if he did feel happy about seeing this.

Mushmouse stumbles over to the sobbing cat, and does about the only thing he can do: he hugs him. Ricochet is going to kill him for getting his bandages wet, but he can't bear seeing him like this anymore.

"Muh...M-M-Mushmouse?" Punkin' mutters, his sobbing slowing slightly.

"You's got nothin' to be sorry for," Mushmouse replies. "I understand completely."

"Y-Ya do?" Punkin' Puss says, his voice breaking.

The sound fills Mushmouse with tears, but he manages to nod. "T-That's the worst thing anyone could've gone through, Punk. I wouldn't even wish that on my worst enemy," he answers. "A-An' I can see why you didn't say anythin'. I-I'd be so scared iffin' I heard that."

"Y-You don't wanna know how much t-that messed up my mind, Mushmouse. I-I thought that none of ya would understand me iffin' ya knew," he says. "A-An' that's not even gettin' to w-where I imagined yer deaths-"

"Don't think of that," Mushmouse says, although he has to suppress a shudder. Second to Punkin's story, that was one of the most terrifying things he's heard all day-and that wasn't counting the death threats. "Punkin', you know you's got friends lookin' out for ya, right?"

"Y-Yeah..."

"An' you know those friends will come a-high-tailin' when they knows you're hurt, right?"

"Mm-hmm..."

"An' ya know that we ain't lettin' ya face this on yer own, right? Or how we ain't goin' down without a fight, right?"

"Y-Yeah. Ricochet told me as such."

"Then you's got nothin' to worry about," Mushmouse says. "You don't gotta worry 'bout nothin' else."

Punkin' Puss nods, and a fresh river of tears erupts on his face, soaking Mushmouse's bandages. "T-Thanks, Mushmouse. You is a loyal friend, you know that?" he says.

"Modesty keeps me from sayin' it," Mushmouse says, "but I is glad you said it, Punk."

In all truth, he knows that there's going to be more to worry about. He knows that Punkin's family is going to retaliate. He knows that somewhere down the line, he's going to have to bring his family back into this mess. And he knows that somewhere down the line, Punkin's going to do something stupid that might get himself hurt or possibly killed. No warning from him or Ricochet or Droop-a-Long would change that.

But he also knows that no matter what happens, no matter what he has to do, and no matter what Punkin' Puss ends up doing, he's going to stick by the cat's side. Punkin' Puss needs them all; he can see that trying to be tough and handling it on his own will break him in the long run. But Mushmouse isn't going to let that happen, no matter the cost, and he knows Ricochet and Droop-a-Long so well that there's no doubt of the lengths they'd go to.

For tonight at least, Punkin's not going to have anything to worry about.

 **The End...**

* * *

 ** _For those of you wondering, yes, this was the original intended ending. Well, most of it, anyway. I lost what was supposed to originally happen because I didn't write the thing down :( But this is is the closest thing I had in mind -a mostly depressing ending, but the hope that Punkin' and his friends will put an end to this mess. That's because I have an idea for a sequel that I'm going to write in the future, although I'm still getting the idea together._**

 ** _All I can say is, poor, POOR Punkin' Puss. Mushmouse did suffer a lot too (namely feeling that his offer of friendship is to blame for this whole catastrophe), but Punkin's eaten by guilt and anger over this whole situation. His best friend's battered and broken physically and emotionally because of his family's cruelty, and his friends want to help, but only he knows how dangerous they really are. His guilt over choosing to kill Mushmouse and starting a fight between his family is the reason he doesn't want his friends involved in this. Being that this is the H-B universe, his friends aren't going to let him wallow in angst and pity forever...but being the stubborn cat that he is, Punkin' may try to solve this by himself. Time will tell if he will._**

 ** _At least I gave them a little bone there: the three ringleaders of this whole thing, Horatio, Mose and Punkin's father, got what they deserved. I would've shown it, but I was busy writing the character interactions._**

 ** _It was fun writing from the perspectives of both Mushmouse and Punkin' Puss in this fic, though, showing their internal conflict and what not, and their friendship-although Mushmouse is more open about it than Punkin', who I feel is more reserved when it comes to his friends, often hiding his concern with snark._**

 ** _Speaking of friends, although I intended to have both Ricochet and Droop-a-Long have equal roles, it was Ricochet who ultimately stole the show. In fact, what pushed me to finish this epilogue was a conversation between Ricochet and Punkin' Puss that I thought of, and it kept going as I wrote it. It did seem odd that they'd be friends, even by Hanna-Barbera standards, so I did my best to show their odd friendship in both parts, and to make it different from Ricochet's close friendship with Droop-a-Long and easy, slightly protective friendship with Mushmouse. I think I did a pretty good job of it. I gave little hints to Droop-a-Long and Mushmouse's friendship, but since Punkin' and Ricochet's got focused more here, they'll get more focus in the next story...providing that Punkin' won't steal the show again XD_**

 ** _And remind me to NEVER write in this style again. There's a reason people say not to write in present-tense, and this is why: it's so FRUSTRATING, not just for the reader, but for the writer._**

 ** _I'm just glad I've got this story done. Now I've just gotta get working on my other one-shots and stuff that I own certain people, as well as working on chapters for other forgotten fics that need to be finished-looking at you, "I'll Never Abandon You" and "Have Guitar, Will Travel"._**

 ** _Constructive criticism on this would be great! Again, thanks for reading, and look for the sequel to this soon!_**

 ** _God bless, iheartgod175_**


End file.
